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#he (safely) ran a red light for me. what is that if not deserving of a generous tip
quaranmine · 5 months
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quaranmine character flaws: respects service workers too much
(my reimbursement for work travel got rejected because i tipped a guy "too much")
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roosterforme · 20 days
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Mr. Right Now Part 11 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: As soon as you told Jake you wanted him to come find you, there was no stopping him. He couldn't make you need him the same way he needed you, but he would take care of whatever made you cry. When you hurt Jake, you hurt yourself, too. He deserved an apology that you were ready to give him, and then he gave you more than you could have hoped for.
Warnings: angst, adult language, fluff, 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
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Jake whipped along the dark, quiet streets of Coronado before crossing the bay bridge at twenty over the speed limit in his truck. You called him. He thought his number never even made it into your phone, but after almost two weeks, you called him. Your voice sounded distraught, but when he went out on a limb, suggesting he come find you himself, you readily agreed. Now he just needed to figure out why you were upset and make sure you weren't hurt.
"Come on," he growled at the red light where he needed to turn left. There wasn't much traffic this late, but it still had been fifteen minutes since you called, and he didn't want to keep you waiting. Not when he heard the tears in your voice. Not when he missed you so much, it felt like part of him was lost.
Something must have happened. If he had done a better job with you, maybe you'd have been back at his place again tonight, safe and sound. That was exactly what he wanted. He hadn't cracked open a college textbook in almost eight years, but that didn't stop him from imagining you doing your classwork on his couch while he offered his two cents here and there. He'd been so damn desperate to feel as good as he had when you were there two weekends ago, he ordered himself your favorite kind of pizza tonight. If he thought it tasted bad before, it was a hundred times worse without you on his lap teasing him.
When he made it to your campus, he found the street you told him over the phone, and he drove a little slower, eyes darting from one side of the street to the other. He was tempted to call your number back to be sure he was on the right track when his gaze caught on a bench across the next intersection. 
It was you. Your head was in your hands, staring at the ground, but he recognized your Converse sneakers as soon as his headlights shone on them. You had on the cutest dress imaginable, and all Jake wanted to do was make sure you were okay.
He pulled his truck up to the curb and killed the engine, and you looked up at him as soon as he hopped out. You were illuminated by a streetlamp, shivering on the bench, and he ran to get to you faster. Tears streaked your cheeks as you stared up at him like he wasn't real, and he sank down onto his knees on the rough sidewalk at your feet.
"Darlin'," he whispered as more tears filled your eyes. "Tell me what's wrong."
You only got one word out before fresh tears fell. "Jake."
He scooted a little closer, and you let him take your hand in his. "You can trust me. I meant it when I said that." As he ran his thumb along your knuckles, he added, "If you tell me what's wrong, I'll try to fix it."
You hung your head and took a deep breath. "I'm such an idiot." Your eyes were closed, long lashes resting on your damp cheeks as you whispered, "I shouldn't have bothered you. Can you just give me a ride back to my dorm?"
"Hey," he coaxed, giving your hand a little squeeze. "I'll make sure you get back safely, but I can't help with whatever caused the tears unless you tell me what happened."
Your eyes fluttered open as you licked your lips. They parted in silence, and Jake was close enough now to feel your warm breath on his cheek. You were hesitating. Reluctant. You were never like this with him before. He was used to you making demands and walking around his place like you owned it, and he found that was how he preferred things. But he waited for you to speak, simply stroking your knuckles with his thumb until you were ready.
"Cooper happened. And it was awful."
Even the name made Jake's skin crawl. He'd been thinking about that stupid kid since the first time you mentioned him, but right now, anger burned just beneath the surface of his skin as he asked, "What did he do to you?" When you tried to hide your face, Jake ran his palm along your cheek and guided your gaze back to his. "Did he hurt you, Darlin'?"
The sentence hung in the air as Jake's throat grew tight. One more tear slid down your cheek as he examined your beautiful face, and you pressed your quivering lips together. Your lack of response was enough for him to get to his feet, and he pulled you up from the bench as well. He tried his best to stay calm, but he could hear the anger in his voice when he asked, "Where is he? I will fucking destroy him."
You responded by taking a step closer until your cheek was resting on his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you. Some of his rage melted away at your touch. Goosebumps covered your arms as you shivered, and he couldn't help but kiss your forehead. Maybe that gesture was why you finally spoke more than a few words, or maybe it was because you could still feel the anger inside him. Either way, Jake held you close as you said, "Cooper did exactly what I gave him permission to do. No need to destroy him."
"Did he hurt you?" he asked again, needing a straight answer.
"No."
"Do you want me to beat the shit out of him anyway?"
You laughed in spite of your tears, and the sound made Jake's heart clench in his chest. "Kind of. But it's all my fault for being so stupid."
"Look at me," Jake said softly. He waited until you did before he said, "You're not stupid. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way when I called you naive. You're young, but you're not stupid."
"I am though," you replied immediately, hand coming up to rest on his chest. "You were so sweet to me. A perfect gentleman. A perfect weekend. And then I just fucking threw it in your face and had sex with Cooper."
Jake let out the breath he had been holding. He wasn't really surprised. That was your main goal the whole time, and you were a good student. You knew what you wanted, and you went for it. But some twenty year old dipshit wasn't going to be able to handle your level of class. He'd been trying to show you that all along. "Let me guess, Darlin'. Cooper wasn't a perfect gentleman?"
You shook your head, and Jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. "It was terrible," you told him. "I just... I messed up somehow."
"Fuck," Jake murmured, hoping the answer to his next question didn't make him want to pull the bench out of the ground and throw it across the street. "Did he use a condom?"
Your eyes were sincere in the glow from the streetlight. "Of course I made sure he used a condom." You bit your lip and added, "You're the only one who can fuck me without one. That was lesson number twelve."
Even the thought made him dizzy. "Just me," he grunted. 
Jake hadn't stopped wanting you for a minute since you kissed him at the bar, but tonight, he found you sitting on a bench on a sketchy side street, crying over another guy. And that really fucking hurt. But at least you made sure Cooper used a condom. At least you were safe.
"He was nothing like you were," you whispered, and he held you tighter. "I asked him for some extra foreplay, and he didn't know how to touch me. I told him I liked oral sex, but he just automatically assumed I'd go down on him instead. I can't believe I did all of this so wrong."
When you tried to remove your hand from his chest, he covered it with his own. "You didn't do anything wrong. I can promise you that. Maybe... you just don't belong with that asshole." Jake sighed and fought the urge to kiss your lips, because he knew you belonged with him, even if you weren't quite there yet. "As long as you're okay, I'll take you back to your dorm. But... maybe in a couple days or a few weeks, when you think you're done crying over Cooper... maybe you'd consider calling me again?" Your eyes went wide as he added, "I really am done with the tag chasers. I haven't been with anyone since you. I think you were my final straw in admitting to myself I wanted something more. Because being with you felt perfect."
"Jake!" you gasped loudly. "I'm not crying over Cooper. I'm crying over how badly I messed things up with you!"
Jake's brow furrowed. "Oh." Now he felt like the idiot. He also felt a little light headed as you leaned in closer.
"I'm so sorry for making you feel cheap," you whispered, eyes shimmering with more tears. "Because you're not. I didn't mean it. I got scared of how much we did together in such a short amount of time. But it was unbelievable how special you made me feel." When he tried to say something, you shook your head before you touched your lips gently to his and asked, "Was it just a normal weekend for you, or did you feel as good as I did? And I'm definitely not just talking about the physical stuff."
"Darlin'," he whispered, wiping your tears away as they fell. "It was the best weekend of my life. And not just the sex. It was never just the sex." You kissed him tentatively again, lips barely touching his before you started to pull away, but Jake chased you for another one. And another one. And then you were smiling against his lips as he said, "I'm really happy you called me, Darlin'."
"Me, too. I missed you."
When he finally broke the kiss, he asked, "You're sure you got Cooper out of your system?"
"I'm so sure," you said softly, never breaking eye contact.
"Then let's get out of here."
Jake ushered you to his truck with his arm around your waist. "Are you taking me back to my dorm?" you asked when he opened the door for you.
"Nah. You're spending the weekend with me. Where you belong."
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Walking back through Jake's front door felt like going home. He held your hand the whole ride over, and when you told him you might need some things from your dorm room, he promised to take you back there in the morning to get whatever you wanted. Then he smirked and added, "But you wore everything from my dresser and made yourself at home last time you were here. You can do that again while we make up for being apart last weekend."
Now that you were standing in his living room where everything looked and felt familiar, you closed your eyes and let him hold you. "I missed you so much," you whispered. "I thought about calling or texting you so many times, it's not even funny. Then I told myself there was no way you'd forgive me."
Jake sighed deeply. "I was terrified that I didn't save my number in your phone before the battery died. I thought I'd never hear from you again. I missed you so much, I even stopped by the Hard Deck last weekend to see if you went there by chance."
Your gaze settled on the pizza box on the coffee table, and when you tried to reach for it, Jake grabbed your hand. You looked up at him, and when you tried one more time to open the lid, he wrapped you in a tighter hug and tried to walk across the living room with you in his arms.
"What kind of pizza is that, Jake?" you asked, tone playfully accusatory. 
This man literally picked you up from a bench on your school campus after you slept with a loser your own age, and he'd once again done nothing except show you respect and affection the whole evening. And now you could feel how easily you and he were falling back into the playful bubble you'd existed in two weeks ago. It was exquisite. This time you weren't going to burst it.
"Come on, Darlin'," he groaned, letting go of your hand so you could investigate the pizza box for yourself. "I couldn't help myself."
"Ha!" you said once you had it open. "My favorite kind!"
Jake's cheeks were pink as he nodded while you pointed at the half eaten pizza on the coffee table. "I told you I missed you," he whispered, and you stumbled back into his arms. "I've been sleeping with my window open so I could listen to the ocean, but it's better with you there. Everything is. The pizza was bad enough before, but it tasted like shit when I ate it alone. I didn't even want to stay in the tub until the water got cold the other day. I only lasted like five minutes"
Your eyes went wide. "You broke one of your own rules?" When he nodded, you kissed his cheek and asked, "Can we take a bath together now?"
His expression melted into a smile. "Go get it started while I get us some drinks."
Lighter than air, you practically floated down the hallway to his bedroom. Everything was tidy like you remembered it. He had some clean laundry folded on his dresser, and when you ran your hand along the soft cotton of his undershirts, you paused. Your black thong was sitting there as well. Excitement welled up inside you, because he never got rid of it. Your fingers wrapped around the lace and you carried it into the bathroom with you, excitement building further as soon as you saw the green toothbrush you used was still there, right next to Jake's. He held onto both of them since you were here last.
These were things a boyfriend would do. You were sure of it. When Jake strolled in with a Sam Adams in one hand and stemware filled with ice water in the other, you were holding your underwear and the toothbrush to your chest. He kissed your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world before saying, "I thought you were going to fill the tub."
"I was," you replied, making no move to do anything as he set the drinks down on the sink vanity. He smiled when he saw what you were holding, and then he opened the cabinet to pull out two towels and some washcloths. There was no new box of condoms inside. None at all.
"You're really done with the tag chasers?" you blurted out, toothbrush digging into the palm of your hand.
Jake looked up at you and nodded as he turned the water on to fill the tub. "Yeah. To be honest, I think I was done with them as soon as I picked up your fake ID from the floor." His green eyes were earnest as he stood tall again and reached for you. "Now, can we make this water as hot as possible? So it'll take longer to cool down? Once we start snuggling, I'm not going to want to get out."
His fingers were teasing along the strap of your dress at your shoulder as you finally set down your thong and your toothbrush. Then you let Jake undress you as the bathroom started to get steamy. The part inside you that was still afraid he wouldn't want you now was soothed by his words and his big hands on your bare skin.
"Climb on in, Darlin'."
You watched him undress from the comfort of the bath, and he handed you both drinks before he turned off the brighter lights in favor of the softer ones. Then he climbed in with you, and his arm was around your body immediately, guiding you to settle between his legs. 
You sipped your water while he sipped his Sam Adams, and the two of you smiled at each other before you asked, "Are you sure you want me to spend the night?"
He hummed into his beer bottle before taking another sip and setting it aside. "I'm going to want you here as much as possible." His words were so simple, but so full of possibility. He felt the same way you did. You were sure of it now. But you had to sip your water to take time to collect your thoughts.
"Well, I have work to do for my classes," you finally said, and he took the glass from your hand and discarded it.
"I can try to help you with it," he replied, both hands on your body once more. "Or maybe I can learn something new. You can be the teacher."
Your heart was beating a nervous rhythm even as you curled up against him with your head on his shoulder and your fingers in his chest hair. "Maybe we should buy more condoms tomorrow or Sunday?" you asked quietly. Nothing about the current state of things felt sexual, but you were still a tiny bit scared he would reject you in that way because of Cooper. But his lips found your forehead while he traced a little heart on your thigh.
"Sure. We can do that." He tipped your chin up so you were looking at him. His expression was serious as he softly said, "But the two of us don't need to have sex to be intimate and have a good time together. You have a lot more than that to offer, Darlin'. I do, too."
You thought back to all the little moments you and he shared in between hooking up. Making out on the couch and laughing together. Eating pizza and falling asleep in his arms. Those were the best parts. "I don't know what you did, but you made all of it so good. Every minute of the entire weekend."
He seemed to relax more as he accepted your words. "It was never just fucking to me. Not since the first night when you trusted me enough to sleep over. And certainly not since I asked you if you wanted it to be sex or something more. That was us making love."
You whimpered before his lips met yours, and you kissed him hard as you let your wet fingers drag through his soft hair. "It was perfect," you said against his mouth before you pulled away an inch.
His forehead was pressed to yours as he murmured, "You're perfect. You always were." His lips brushed yours as he added, "But yeah, after I take you out for lunch tomorrow and we stop by your dorm for whatever you need, we can get more condoms. I would enjoy that immensely."
"You better not get me pregnant before I graduate from college," you joked.
Jake snorted. "I better not get you pregnant anytime soon. I haven't even met your parents yet."
"You want to meet my parents?" you asked in surprise. 
You were perched on his lap awaiting a response as Jake leaned back against the tub. His gaze lingered on every part of your face before he casually asked, "Which lesson were we on?"
He was being coy and sweet and sincere, and all of your feelings were right there at the surface now. "Are you serious right now?" you asked, poking him in the abs. When he nodded, you said, "We were on number thirteen."
"Right. Lucky number thirteen. My favorite one," he crooned, offering up nothing else.
After another beat, you poked him again and said, "Spit it out, Jake. What's the lesson?"
"Smartass," he muttered. The water was starting to cool down now, and when you shivered, he just held you a little closer. "Lesson thirteen is more for me than for you." He paused to kiss you before saying, "I'm feeling like I don't want to be with anyone else. Just you. Make this a permanent thing. Think you can humor me by labeling it?"
"Yes," you replied so quickly that he was laughing when your lips crashed against his.
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Jake wrapped you up in one of the towels, and the two of you brushed your teeth side by side. You already knew where everything was, and without prompting, you rooted around in his dresser drawers until you found something you wanted to wear. Then you climbed into his bed like you knew without a doubt you'd always be welcome there, and he turned off the lights.
"Jake," you whined softly, patting the empty spot next to you in the glow from the moonlight. When he didn't immediately move, you added, "Get in bed with me."
But he took the time to admire you as he slid the window open another few inches. The sound of the ocean had a calming effect on him again now that you were back, and he felt more peaceful. You belonged here with him. When you reached for his hand, he let you tug him toward the bed with a smile on his face. He belonged with you, too.
"That's better," you whispered, melting into him as soon as he had his arms around you under the blanket. "Good night, Jake." 
"Night, Darlin'." He was ready to keep you warm all night and spend the weekend showing you that he made an excellent boyfriend. "I love you."
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Jake and Darlin' pulled it together in the end. Thank you for reading my fic about intimacy, consent, trust and knowing your worth. I loved every second of writing this. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls
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desmond69miles · 10 months
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okay so… devil may cry….
dmc boys being overstimulated by a sex toy (vibe? fleshlight? surprise me :D)
this is what I’m SAYING.
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Tags: use of sex toys (vibe/fleshlight), light overstim, a lot of c-u-m, heavy praise, sub dmc men.
Char. included: Dante & Vergil.
Dante [-: Dante loves having sex toys used on him. He'd be open to the conversation that talks about sex toys and is very willing to be your test bunny. He could possibly be a little too willing, wanting to immediately go to sex without the discussion of safe words and boundaries.
[-: I'd think he'd be open to most every sex toys, including toys that go up you or him.
Hips positioned above his face, one of your hands rested on his thigh while the other held a dark red stroker tight around his cock. Dante's tongue flicked around your hole and his hands were tight against your hips, keeping you flush to his mouth. Occasionally you stuttered when he hit a good spot, head hanging low as your hand loosened around the stroker.
"Fuck, baby, don't stop." He'd say as you quickly jerked him off, slowing down sometimes around his tip. He wasn't quiet and you knew it was pointless to get him to try to be quiet, so you could only hope the neighbors had a good pair of headphones. Dante's hips chased after your hand when you pulled off just as he was about to cum, a high and whiny whimper coming from your boyfriend.
"C'mon! I was so close." You giggled at his whining and pushed the stroker back onto his leaking cock. Pumping once, twice slowly just to give Dante a thought of a slow orgasm, only to speed up quickly. Dante's head fell back against the pillows as he groaned and whined, hips roughly snapping to meet your hand. It came on so quickly neither of you really noticed, Dante's cum painting his and your stomach.
A "Fuck.." was drawn slow out of Dante. You both laid in bliss for a little while before he roughly grabbed your hips and pushed you off of him, reversing the positions so now Dante hovered over you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips. "My turn now, babe."
Vergil [-: Vergil's not as open as Dante would be. It would take a lot more convincing to allow him to let you use a toy on him, like thorough begging. Maybe if you allowed him to try them out on you first would he allow you to try them.
[-: When he does allow you to use them on him, he's all quiet whimpers and groans. His fists are tightly balled up in the sheets, hips subconsciously pumping up into your hand.
Your hand is tight around the base of his cock, a small yet powerful bullet vibe pressed harsh against the underside of his tip. His thighs tensed, mind fighting off the urge to bend his knees to stave off the upcoming orgasm. His big hands were gripping the sheet below him tightly and his hips gently jerked up, head tilted way back into the sheets. 'He's gonna bite his lip off if he keeps biting down like that,' you thought. 'Cute, though.'
You knew Vergil wasn't above begging, and if you'd try to push him to the point of begging he'd shut down. So, your hand let go of his cock and the other pushed the vibe so his penis was flush against his lower tummy. Your free hand ran across his thigh, running up towards his hips, trailing up to his chest. You gently raked your nails across his muscles and watched his tummy flex.
"I-I'm going to cum." Vergil says so matter-of-factly, still so in character. "Go ahead, you deserve it. You've been such a good boy for me." You watched his face flex at your praise and you knew at the moment he wanted to shoot back but couldn't as his dick twitched, cum shooting and pooling where his tip was pressed into his stomach. "Good boy. Do you want another one?" You asked sweetly, Vergil's body going limp as he relishes in the waves of a powerful orgasm. Your husband let out a weak breath and a low 'no.' You hummed in response and shut off the vibrator that had been forgotten about. "I'll go get a towel and some water, alright? We can also take a bath if you want." You slid off the bed and put the vibe to the side, leaning over Vergil's head. Your still-lubed fingers brushed a strand of free hair off of his head and your lips gave a warm kiss to his forehead, cheek, and then a chaste one on his lips.
<3
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acourtofthought · 29 days
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Just in case people are confused why Eluciens don't feel Jurian is the reason Elucien shouldn't end up together and why we'd have no issues with her interacting with him -
Jurian looked right to Mor, whose mouth was a tight line. “You were my friend,” he said, voice straining. “We fought back-to-back during some battles. And yet you believed me at first sight—believed that I’d ever let them turn me.”
“And I was glad to do it,” Jurian snarled. “I was glad to do it, if it bought us an edge in that war. I didn’t care what it did to me, what it broke in me. If it meant we could be free. And I have had five hundred years to think about it. While being held prisoner by my enemy. Five hundred years, Mor.” The way he said her name, so familiar and knowing—
“You played the villain convincingly enough, Jurian,” Rhys purred. Jurian snapped his face toward Rhys. “You should have looked. I expected you to look into my mind, to see the truth. Why didn’t you?”
“You mean to imply,” Mor pushed, “that you’ve been working to help us during this?”. “Where better to plot your enemy’s demise, to learn their weaknesses, than at their side?”
I said to Jurian, “You don’t want to kill Miryam and Drakon.” There was stark honesty in Jurian’s eyes as he shook his head once. “No,” he said roughly. “I want to beg their forgiveness.”. I looked to Mor. But tears lined her eyes, and she blinked them furiously away.
Jurian was not my enemy. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Even as Rhys and I both looked. I didn’t linger for long. The pain and guilt and rage, what he had seen and endured … But Jurian spoke true. Laid himself bare to us.
Jurian leaned in as if he’d kiss me, and brought his mouth to my ear. “Were you smart enough to kill her before you took her skin?” My hands tightened on his jacket. “She got what she deserved.” I could feel Jurian’s smile against my ear. “She’s in his tent. Chained with steel and a little spell from his favorite book.” Shit. Shit. Perhaps I should have gotten Helion, who could break almost any— Jurian caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Come to my tent with me, Ianthe. Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.” (Jurian helping Feyre find Elain after she was taken by the Cauldron)
“Jurian …” Lucien blew out a breath, scanning the carved wood ceiling above. “Thank the Cauldron for him. I never thought I’d say that, but it’s true.” He ran a hand through his silken red hair. “He’s keeping everything running. I think he’d have been crowned king by now if it wasn’t for Vassa.”
“How’s the Spring Court?” Nesta asked. The fire crackled merrily to her right, and she let the sound ripple through and past her. Acknowledged the crack and what it did to her, and released it. Even as she concentrated on the male she’d addressed. Lucien’s jaw tightened. “How you’d expect.” Tension rippled through the room, confirmation that Tamlin had heard the news of Feyre’s pregnancy. From Lucien’s grim face, she knew he hadn’t reacted well. Nesta said, “And Jurian and Vassa?”
We've got canon confirmation that Jurian is actually a good guy, that he was willing to suffer so long as it saved the rest, that Rhys and Feyre looked into his mind to confirm this, that he's been a friend to Lucien, that he was Mor's friend.
So you'll understand why that all holds a bit more weight for us regarding Jurian’s true character over what anti's like to cling to, crass statements made while he was pretending to be the bad guy while Hybern and / or his lackeys were present.
Sarah has clearly moved the story forward showing Jurian in an extremely positive light. SHE is the one who wrote him making the joke (because it made more sense than Jurian telling Lucien Elain would be fine in the NC since they were his friends and he knew they'd keep her safe) then SHE is the one who revealed him as the good guy playing double agent. All we're doing is understanding what she wrote.
Elain would be lucky to have a war hero as her friend.
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kelppsstuff · 7 months
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“The Daughter of Wrath.”
Masterlist
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Warnings: smut, p in v, adam, kinda angst? Not really
Summery: The reader sneaks out of her palace and meets the first man, but as he lets her go over time they find one another becomes more and more hard to resist temptation.
Darcy, the sin of wrath. One of the big shot seven deadly sins. That man was my father. When my father found out that my mother was pregnant with me, he waited. Waited until I was three to kill her. Because of my father I grew up motherless. I grew up forced to live in his shadow, never able to see the light.
I was his executioner, his doll to bend to his will. Never aloud out of the palace. But that changed. I snuck out. Impulsive? Yes. Did I care? No. At least at first I didn’t. But when that portal in the sky opened I knew something was about to go very wrong.
And I was right. Angels started to fly out the portals and started kill all the sinners off the streets. No one was safe. I ran. I ran as fast as I could trying to get back to my home. What the fuck is this? Why are angels killing sinners? Was this new? And if not, why didn’t my dad tell me?
I ran into the alley way, my mansion in view. But I felt someone tug my arm back. Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck. I turned to look at the angel and he looked different than the others. He wore a golden robe, a mask that was almost demonic that glowed golden.
I tried to pry my arm away but his grip was too strong. “Who are you? Why are you killing those poor souls?” I continued to try and free myself but she just used his other hand to secure me. “You must be new to hell.” Fuck this guy.
My eyes flashed red and sent a red electrical wave all around us. Effectively flying him away from me. I ran and climbed over the gate of my home. Once I was inside the palace walls I felt calmer. I ran to my room and locked the door, throwing myself onto my bed.
The sound of knocking on my balcony pulled me out of my thoughts. The fuck? That man was back. I shouldn’t let him in. That’s a dumb decision. But the way he tilted his head at me and pointed his fingers to the door compelled me. I stood and opened the door like a moron. “Who are you?” He asked me.
“(Name) and you?”
“Adam. You know first man Adam.”
So this was the first man. “Why are you killing everyone?” His eyes narrowed at me and for a second I thought I was going to be next on his kill list but instead he walked to the railing, overlooking the angels killing everyone.
“They deserve death, there sinners. This place was hard to find surprisingly. You have to be looking for it.” He was right, my father intended for it to be that way. He had no tolerance for socialization. “My father likes it like that.”
“Oh? And who’s he? Some kind of demon royalty?”
“Sort of. He’s one of the sins.” I walked to the railed and stood next to him, overlooking the dread on the streets. “If your killing everyone, why not me?”
“Who says I won’t?” His brow raised.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to assume.”
“Everyone assumes, it’s a part of having knowledge.” His voice got quieter but I could hear the anger, the wrath.
“So your the first man?”
“Sure am babe!” He immediately perked up. As if talking about himself cures all worries.
“How does that whole story go? My dad said he didn’t want me to know to much about the heavens or humans.” Adam was apart of both.
“Well from dust I was created, but Eve technically wasn’t the first woman.” His fist clenched around the railing as he retold the story. “The first woman was Lilith but Lucifer stole her away. The Heavens then created Eve as a replacement, then that fucking duck offered her the apple of knowledge. She also fucked him.” His throat clenched as the last sentence.
“Is that why your killing these people?” My voice was quiet, cautious not to anger him further.
He turned to look at me and shook his head. “The sinners were rising and overflowing to heaven, we needed to find away to keep the population down.” So you kill people? Was he going to kill me? What have I accomplished? What can I say I confidently did before I died?
The portal to Heaven opened up again and his wings spread. It was the first time I gotten a clear View of them. They were marvelously beautiful. I reached my hand to touch them but before I could he flew off into the sky. Back to heaven. I watched as he flew off and then saw a golden feather floating in the sky down into my hands. I smiled at the tiny feather and clutched it to my chest. My first real interaction with someone besides my father.
Adam came back exactly one year later. I watched from my balcony as the angels came down from the sky once again. I waited, but he wasn’t showing. I had just about gone back inside the feather my pocket a reminder of the man. But his voice stopped my movement. “Ya miss me?” Crazy enough I did.
I turned to the man who just landed on my balcony, a smile wide on my face. I ran to his side. “What have you been up too? How was heaven? Ohhhh did you do anything fun? Do you have friends up there?” Questions kept spilling from my mouth. Well there goes my cool facade, but I couldn’t help it. I had grown truly lonely.
“Slow down babe. We’ve got time. Heavens great as always. Never a bad day in heaven. And of course I have friends, I’m fucking Adam.” He looked over my head and into my room and lead us into it. “And I just had a gig so that’s what I’ve been up to.” He laid down on my bed, on his stomach. His wings in full display. I couldn’t help myself. I slowly climb onto the bed and brushed my hand gently on his wings. Soft, like a puppy.
He immediately turned and looked up and me. “The fuck?” At least he wasn’t too aggressive the way he said it. “I’m sorry, there just really pretty and soft.” He tilted his head like the first time I saw him on my balcony. He then laid back down and said, “you can continue, if ya like. You’ve got a comfy bed.”
I smiled and immediately started to pet them while he gave a soft humming melody. In this moment I wasn’t alone. This moment felt perfect. I never wanted it to end. But unfortunately it had too.
We walked back out as the portal reopened. He started to lift off into the sky but I grabbed his hand before he could fully take off. He looked down at me confused and I blushed in embarrassment. “I did miss you. I’ll see you next year yeah?” He nodded his head and flew back into heaven. Like last time I watched. And as the year went by I waited for his return.
As the years went on every time he came back I was filled with joy and as he left again I waited a whole year for him, almost like I was stuck without him.
10 years later
He came and left again yesterday. And like every year I threw myself into my bed and waited for him. Scrolling mindlessly on my phone. Over time I grew to love the angel that would visit me once a year. I loved him more than I thought could be possible. I loved him like the moon loved the moon. Never able to tell how you feel as you only get a few hours with them. He shined so bright while I could only live in the dark. I was alone, but when he was here I felt like a better person. I felt complete.
Too focused on my thoughts I didn’t hear the knocking on my balcony door. But when the door opened that got my attention. I jumped out of my bed and saw him.
Immediately my heart jumped a million beats per second. I could feel the blush forming on my face.
Then the next thought came. It’s not extermination day. How was he here?
“Adam?”
He shifted his feet and continued to stare at me. “I had a meeting with the ducks brat.” My chest tightened. He wasn’t here for me, not actually. “Oh.”
“Normally I wouldn’t even entertain the thought of going.” He took steps forward. Until he was fully in front of me. “But I” another step forward. We were chest to chest now. Our breathing were heavy. My mind racing with how close he was. He raised a hand to my cheek and as I nuzzled into it he finished his sentence. “I just had to see you. I couldn’t go another minute without you.”
I gasped out at him but I couldn’t speak, he went on.
“Heaven is supposed to be your happy ending and for a while I thought it was, but it’s not. Your my heaven and I damn well intend to have it.”
He pulled me to his lips, kissing me desperately. I was drowning in him, but I never wanted to breath again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he lifted me to his waist. He started to kiss down my neck leaving marks everywhere.
He dropped me to the bed and climbed over me. I reached up to pull his mask off but hesitated. “May I?” He only nodded his head and so I pulled the mask away and threw it somewhere else.
He was absolutely gorgeous. Dark hair, a nice stubborn, a wicked smirk and pretty golden eyes. I pulled him to my lips once again only parting to praise his looking. “Absolutely divine.”
He ripped away my shirt and I helped him pull over his robe. He wore pants under but was shirtless. He had a wide chest, a body of a golden star athlete. He kissed down my chest and wrapped his lips around one of my nipples while his other hand needed the other.
I pulled his head away from my tits and bring him close to my face. His face was flushed as was mine. “I need you inside me now.”
He groaned and dropped in head into the crook of my neck. “Fuck babe I’m trying to make this last as long as possible.”
“I don’t care about that I just need you. Please Adam.”
He pulled his panties down while I pulled mine and he started to rub his fingers up and down my clit, teasing me.
“Fuck babe this wet already?”
I whined and tried to lean into him more, arching my body. He got the hint and started to slowly expand my walls with his shaft. Even with how wet I am he still barely just fit. But fuck did it feel good.
He started to thrust his hips and pleasure immediately crashed into me. He grabbed a hold on the head board while I grabbed his hair and pulled.
I could feel the pressure in my stomach started to build up. The coil wanting to snap. Scratched down his back trying to not cum. But fuck his next words did me in as he rub my clit. “You can cum babe, fuck, you look so pretty.” And my orgasam hit me hard that I didn’t even feel his seed coating my walls.
Once we finally came back down from our high I curled into him. “So the princess was talking about redeeming souls down here with some hotel so they could go to heaven.”
I felt my breath hitch. “I was thinking about giving the go ahead for her.” Would I participate in that? Could I really leave my dad? My home?
As I looked up to Adam I realized I would, because he is my home. He’s the man I love and I would do anything for him
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peakyswritings · 1 month
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My Father’s Daughter
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Time to Say Goodbye
Arthur Shelby x Daughter!OC
Summary: sometimes the hardest decision is the better one.
Warnings: mentions of death, alcohol and drug addiction, rocky father-daughter relationship, tiny reference to sex, angst, season 6 spoilers, English is not my first language.
A/N: guess we’re starting from the ending! Each chapter will be a standalone. They will be linked, but they can be read separately. This is set in season 6.
Edit: putting this here cause I think I haven’t been as clear as I wanted to, since it created a bit of confusion🙈 This is the end of Rosalind’s story - or at least, of her story within the family. I wanted to try something different than what I usually do and start from the ending. In the next chapters I’m going back to 1919 and from them on I’ll explore how things turned out the way they turned out.
MEET ROSALIND
SERIES MOODBOARD
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In the dim light of a room she knew all to well by now, Rosalind looked for her undergarments among the mess of clothes lying on the floor. The sun was about to set, and she needed to leave before it got too dark. These days, the streets of Birmingham weren’t safe even for a Shelby.
She slid into her slip, the cool material bringing some relief to her skin, still warm from the activities that had been going on up until a few minutes before. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she would’ve liked to stay a while. He would’ve liked it too. But it would just mean to pointlessly carry over something that was bound to happen all the same. She had never been one for cuddling, anyway. Running a hand through her ruffled red locks, she glanced at her… whatever Isiah Jesus was to her.
He was still lying in bed, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. He kept his gaze on her, watching her every movement. “So you’re leaving.”
“Yes.”
“Does your father know?”
“Not yet.”
A sigh escaped her lips as she zipped up her dress. She had to tell him, she knew she did. As tempting as the prospect of just leaving without telling anyone else was. “I’ll tell him tonight.”
“Y’know where he is?” he inquired. Isiah was no stranger to Arthur Shelby’s habits, and the course they had taken of late. One could never tell whether he’d go back home or spend his night in the Chinese shop whose business was thanks to the generous amount of money he spent in it.
“Drunk, somewhere,” she shrugged. “Maybe high. Maybe both.”
She wasn’t worried. She knew her father would show up, eventually. He always did. He needed someone to take care of him when he was too wasted to even stand. She couldn’t be that someone anymore. And it wasn’t like he deserved it. She loved him, of course she did, despite everything. But love was not enough.
“I can’t convince you to stay, can I?”
Isiah’s question hung in the air for a while, then, just like it came, it faded away. He knew the answer, she didn’t need to say it. It was more like himself talking to himself. There was a glimpse in his dark eyes, one of sadness, perhaps. Sadness, and something else Rosalind refused to see. That look could’ve almost compelled her to stay, had things been different.
“What will I do without you, eh?” He let out a chuckle, a poor attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “You’ve been pestering me since you came around.”
“Well it’s time you got yourself a woman. Start a family,” she teased him, sitting on the bed to put on her shoes.
He laughed, shaking his head. The only woman I’d start a family with doesn’t want to hear any of that, he thought to himself. But he didn’t say it. Cause he couldn’t.
Rosalind would’ve missed him too, there was no point in lying to herself. But there was no point in dwelling over what could’ve been either. It was time for her to turn page, to leave that life behind. Was she running away? Yes, she had no intention of hiding it from herself. Maybe if she ran fast enough she could escape the old curse. Polly had said it once. It’s in us. In our blood. We need to move, or it catches up with us.
Maybe it would catch up with her anyway.
Her gaze rested on Isiah one last time. She wondered if she’d forget about his face, overtime. If it would deform and fade until it became an indistinct blur and she could no longer picture it in her mind, like it had happened with her mother. She leaned in to press a kiss on his lips. It was chaste, tender, so different from the ones they had shared until then. She wanted to imprint the feeling of his soft lips against hers. That was the one thing she didn’t want to forget.
“Goodbye, Isiah.”
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The sound of Rosalind’s heels on the cobblestones resounded in the empty street, breaking the uncanny stillness. Wrapping herself tighter in her expensive coat, she watched are her breath came out in little white clouds in the chilly air, illuminated by the street lamps. Small Heath was so different from the way it used to be years ago. There used to be workers in every corner, striking iron, shovelling coal, lighting fires. Now it was dead silent.
The gun she always carried with her granted her a faint feeling of safety. There had been a time when she was untouchable. When she would walk down the street knowing no one would dare look at her twice, let alone hurt her. Then Aunt Polly was killed, and all of her certainties came tumbling down. If Elizabeth Gray could be taken out, there was no hope for any of them.
When she walked through the front door of her house, she was hit by the reek of booze and smoke. Her father was there. He was sitting at the head of the table, with rumpled clothes, disheveled hair, and an empty look in his eyes. He didn’t say a word. She wondered if he had noticed her stuff was missing, or if he was too stoned to pay attention to anything. She took a seat in front of him, trying to figure out whether he was lucid enough to have that conversation. Or any conversation.
“I’m leaving.”
A heavy silence hung in the air. He didn’t look surprised. In fact, there was almost no emotion on his face. He looked like a dead man forced to stand by some invisible string, like a puppet in a theatre. It wasn’t the first time she got the impression that all the shit he took - the booze, the cocaine, the opium - had drained all the life out of him, leaving just the shell of the man he once was.
For the first time since she had entered the house, he raised his gaze on her. The gaze she met every time she looked in the mirror. That was the one thing she could never escape from.
“Leaving where?”
“America. New York.”
“To do what?”
“I’ll figure it out,” her voice faltered. All the firmness she had armed herself with was threatening to slip away. Her father’s stare was hard, unflinching. She didn’t let it intimidate her. “In truth, I asked uncle Tommy if he needed help with anything, in New York. He said I should talk to you first.”
As if her father was in the conditions of having that conversation.
A silent question arose in his face, but he didn’t say anything. She didn’t give him the chance to. “Then I changed my mind. Whatever I’ll do, I’ll do it on my own.”
Her father nodded to himself, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. “So ye’re walking out on us. On your old man. On your family.”
That attempt to instil a sense of guilt sent a wave of burning rage through Rosalind’s spine. She didn’t give in to it, though. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t snap. She limited herself to raise her eyebrows and and let out a scoff. “What family?” she asked dryly.
Her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair, lowering his gaze, his own facade crumbling.
She could’ve stopped there. She could’ve spared him the pain. But she didn’t. “Aunt Polly’s dead. Uncle John’s dead. Esme and her kids have vanished into thin air. Michael’s in America, and he hasn’t been a part of this family since he’s been sent away. Uncle Tommy’s not himself anymore. Aunt Ada’s raising two fatherless children. God knows what Finn’s up to. And you…” she paused, grimacing. “You’re a mess.”
A pained expression crossed her father’s face. Her words were more venomous than poison. She knew she was hurting him. Part of her felt bad for that, but the other part wanted to make him feel a tiny part of the pain that had been inflicted upon her since the day she was born. That was the one thing she’d always carry with her.
“Linda left you because you fucked up. I didn’t like her, you know it. But she took care of you, and you fucked up. She left, and even that didn’t change you.”
She didn’t blame Linda for leaving. She had a long list of things to resent her for, but leaving with Billy was not one of them. She couldn’t take care of him anymore. And now Rosalind knew how Linda felt. Everyday she was waiting for the news that her father had been found dead in an alley, with a syringe in his arm. Or killed in one of the fights he engaged in, chasing the thrill of his long gone backstreet days. She had prepared herself to hear something like that a long time ago. She had come to terms with the fact that he was beyond saving.
Her father loosened the collar of his shirt as if he was choking on the truth his daughter was dumping on him. A glimpse of guilt shone in his eyes, and yet, no apology left his lips. “Walking out on yer old man,” he repeated in muffled words.
“You walked out on me first.”
None of them said another word. Not Arthur, who was still digesting what his daughter had said to him, nor Rosalind, who hadn’t meant for their confrontation to take that turn. But too many things had been left unspoken for too long. And Arthur Shelby, despite his efforts to be better, had not managed to escape the curse that had been passed on to him by his father, and by his father before him. His inability to apologise was the proof.
With nothing left to say or do, Rosalind walked out that house she couldn’t call home, and closed the door behind her.
That was the last conversation she ever had with her father.
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My Father’s Daughter taglist: @strayrockette @justrainandcoffee
General taglist:
@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys
@lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989
@call-sign-shark @ce1iat @red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator
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late-to-the-party-81 · 7 months
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Red Carpet Ready
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AN: So when all the pictures and gifs from the Berlinale festival started to come out over the last week a lot of the folk on the BBE server went, shall we say, feral. When this particular gif appeared, @mrs-illyrian-baby, @buckyismybicycle and I started to have thots. Thots about a cool, calm collected movie star Bucky leaving a very wrung out reader melted in the back of the limo as he strode out onto the red carpet. And this was born.
Not beta’d.
Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.
Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics
Master list 
Summary: You love your job as Bucky’s PA. You love him even more, even if he doesn’t know it. On your way to an awards ceremony he appears more nervous than usual and thanks to a traffic jam you find the best way to get him out of his head.
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Relationship: Movie Star Bucky Barnes x PA Fem Reader
Word count: 3k
CW: AU - Modern Day, Anxious Bucky, Pining, Power Imbalance, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral - M receiving, Vaginal fingering), Bucky’s A+ Dirty Talk, Implied future spicy time, effectively PWP.
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You lurched in your seat as the limo braked. Luckily it hadn’t been going fast, but it was enough to fracture your concentration. You looked up from your checklist towards the other occupant of the back seat, your boss, the famous movie-star Bucky Barnes.
You’d been his PA for several years now, acting as a go-between him and his manager, getting him booked into hotels under pseudonyms, liaising with his media team and his stylist, fetching coffees and a hundred and one other things. Luckily, he was a lovely man to work for, polite and respectful, but, unfortunately for you, he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. You remembered when you first got the job - you’d spent most of your days refusing to actually speak unless necessary, lest you embarrass yourself by letting slip your not safe for work inner thoughts. However, as time had passed you’d not only relaxed, but also been able to get to know the man behind the mask, meaning that you and Bucky now had an easy friendship. It was based on mutual respect and shared memories, and you treasured it intensely. Your friends wondered why you stayed in a job that left you with no real base, flitting around the world for shoots, premieres and interviews. You told them that it suited you. You didn’t tell them that it was because you were in love with your employer.
Bucky looked nervous and ran his hands through his shaggy hair. He didn’t often wear it that long, but he was growing it out for a part, more willing to do that than have to put up with a stifling wig on top of what was bound to be an equally stifling costume. His left knee jiggled,  letting you know his anxiety was on the rise. 
Tonight he was attending an awards ceremony, one in which he’d been nominated for the Best Actor category. That in itself wasn’t that strange, he’d been nominated several times over the last few years, but this time was different, this time there was a high chance he would actually win. Such a thing was utterly deserved in your biassed opinion, but Bucky had been the runner-up so many times before and his nerves were starting to get the better of him. 
Realising you’d been staring at him for too long, you looked back down at your checklist and cleared your throat.
“You’re being seated next to Yelena, as she’s your co-star in the next movie, so at least you’ll be with someone you know.”
Bucky grunted and turned his head to look out of the tinted windows as the lights of L.A. moved passed at a much slower pace than you would have liked. The traffic was to be expected really, the great and good of Hollywood, plus all their fans, out in force for tonight’s event. It would have been more surprising if the roads hadn’t been blocked.
With a sigh you put down your clipboard and reached out to place your hand on Bucky’s knee to grab his attention.
“You’ll be fine, you know,” you soothed. “You’ve got your acceptance speech in your jacket pocket still, haven’t you?” You watched as he patted his hand against his chest, checking for the folded paper housed in the inside pocket of his black jacket and gave you a small nod in confirmation. He wore a navy blue shirt under the black suit and had foregone a tie. In your opinion - and you had a lot of those about Bucky - he looked stunning. 
He was also uncharacteristically quiet.
You wracked your brains, trying to think of a way to get him out of his head. From the corner of your eye you saw him push his finger down the collar of his shirt and give it a tug. You clucked your tongue and rolled your eyes and leant forward in your seat, both hands outstretched towards the offending fabric.
“Let’s just undo that for a moment. We’ve got time, and you’ve got me here to make sure you look presentable.”
He chuckled at that, and your heart soared. Your fingers made quick work of the top two buttons of his shirt and Bucky let out a deep sigh in appreciation.
“Thanks, Doll. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice was rough from staying quiet for so long, his vocal cords stiff.
Your lips turned up at the edges. “I’m sure you would have thought of it yourself, or found another way to get rid of your nerves.”
His eyes, stormy grey-blue, flicked up to yours just then, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. There was a feeling, nebulous and just out of reach, that you could almost identify brewing between you. Moments like this had occurred a handful of times over the last few months, coinciding with Bucky getting over his last heartbreak. His previous girlfriend had been… alright - it wasn’t any of your business of course and you definitely hadn’t stalked her socials whatsoever - but it hadn’t surprised you when they’d called it a day.  However, once he’d started to get back on level footing, you’d noticed him watching you more, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.
First of all, you couldn’t be sure that you weren’t actually imagining it. You’d been in love with him for so long it wouldn’t surprise you if your brain had started to make you hallucinate.
Secondly, even if Bucky was watching you more, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe he was just making sure you were alright and weren’t being harassed by any of the pricks that tended to inhabit the movie scene. 
However, if it was what your brain was telling you it was, where did that leave you? He was your boss - okay, technically his manager was, but po-tay-to, po-ta-to - and a famous movie star to boot. It was a recipe for disaster if ever there was one, even if your heart, and other parts of you, were begging for it.
“Hmm,” Bucky pondered, amusement peppering his voice. “Other ways to destress. I wonder what you could mean, Doll.”  
You giggled at his unsubtle innuendo and playfully smacked his arm. “Behave, Mr Barnes!”
He laughed back and rolled his eyes. “Now I’m in trouble. You brought out the big guns. Making me turn around and look for my father.”
You continued to laugh, but suddenly the limo breaked again, much harder than last time, and you practically flew out of your front facing seat to land on your knees on the carpeted floor.
“Shit!” Bucky exclaimed, and his hands clamped around the tops of your arms, steadying you. “Are you okay?”
You shook your head to clear it and looked up, ready to confirm that you were, when your mouth went dry. Bucky loomed over you and his thick thighs bracketed you where you were kneeling on the floor of the limo between his legs. In the space of a breath his eyes, his expression morphed from one of concern to something darker, and more primal. When you heard him mutter “Fuck” under his breath, you knew that your brain had not been deceiving you over the past months. 
Bucky wanted you.
And although your mouth was still dry, your panties were having the opposite problem.
His gaze, dark and dangerous, pinned you in place, like a butterfly on a collectors board. You made no attempt to get up - you didn’t think you’d be able to even if you did want to - and that decision told Bucky everything he needed to know. Gone was the nervous wreck of a few minutes ago and in his place was a lust filled, domineering man. A hunter with his prey in sight.
He let go of you with his left hand and trailed his knuckles down your cheek. You couldn’t help it when your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.
“I think I’m still a bit stressed, Doll. You got any ideas on how you can personally assist me with that?”
You nodded and swallowed thickly, your hands coming up to grip his suit clad thighs. You felt them tense under your grip and images of you straddling one, rubbing your slick core against the toned muscle filled your head, making your moan. He let out a deep chuckle that vibrated through his whole body.
“I’d love to know what images you’ve conjured in your head, sweetheart, and maybe I’ll persuade you to tell me later on, but we don’t have much time.” He popped open the four buttons on his jacket, revealing to you the tenting in his suit pants. 
You shouldn’t be doing this, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You knew what was in there. Had been on set with him enough times in various states of dress and undress - even though you always tried to avert your eyes - to be fairly well informed, but this was the closest you’d ever been. Like a moth to a flame, your hands slid up his legs until they were gripping his hips. You looked up at him again, and he just stared back, expectantly. 
Fuck. You’d never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you. 
Carefully you unbuckled his belt, but your hands still brushed over his clothed erection which twitched under your accidental touch. You pulled down his zipper and Bucky shifted himself so that you could peel his pants part way down his thighs.
There was a dark, damp spot on his grey boxer briefs and they clung to his body, outlining the shape and size of him. You licked your lips without thinking, and drew the lower one in between your teeth.
Were you really about to suck Bucky’s cock in the back of the limo? You were glad that the privacy screen had gone up straight away, to give you time to get Bucky ready for the red carpet, although the you of twenty minutes ago had in no way envisioned this scenario ever happening outside of your private imaginings.
Bucky took hold of your right hand and laid it over his bulge and you couldn’t help but give him a gentle squeeze through his briefs. He inhaled sharply through his nose and his eyes fluttered briefly, before they were back on you, somehow darker than before. You felt emboldened, the fact you held power over his desire making you dizzy, and you let go of him so you could pull down the waistband of his underwear and get your first, up close look at Bucky’s cock.
For a moment you were worried your arousal would spill over your panties and leave a wet spot on the carpet between your knees as you took him in with your gaze. He was everything you’d ever imagined from your brief glances and you barely hesitated before you wrapped your hand around the firm warmth of him and took his tip between your lips. 
You were aware of several things at once - the clean, musky scent and taste of him, as well as the salacious noise that left his lips at your first, tentative caress. You also heard a thud and cast your eyes upwards to see that Bucky had let his head fall back against the privacy screen. You should have been worried about what the driver may be thinking, but in reality, you didn’t care. All that mattered was Bucky.
You explored him with your fingers, lips and tongue, revelling in the groans, grunts and whispered mumblings that fell from his lips. His right hand still held your upper arm, but his left came up to gently cup the back of your head, not forcing you down, but just adding another connection between the two of you.
You bobbed your head and took him as deep as you could, your throat swallowing around his length until spots appeared in front of your eyes and you had to draw back.
“Jeez, Doll. Fuck! How did I not see what was right under my nose for all those years? Coulda been doing this sooner. Coulda had you writhing in my bed, creaming on me like you’re probably creaming those panties of yours right now.”
You hummed your agreement and tongued his slit, before tracing down his frenulum and around the underside of his head.
“Whatever happens this evening, you’re mine tonight. Gonna treat you right, Doll. Gonna fuck you until you don’t know your own name any more, only mine. And if I win? Shit. Might need an extra day and night in the hotel. God. I’m close, sweetheart. You gonna swallow it all? Can’t spill a drop on my suit. Can’t have me go out there with cum on my pants.”
You swallowed him down deep again, flattening your tongue against the ridgid length of him, and reached down with your hand to massage his tightening balls. Bucky’s hips started to jerk, so taken over by his desires that he was unable to hold back from fucking your mouth, at least a little bit.
“That’s it. Take it. Take it. Such a good girl. Every drop. Every. Fucking. Drop.” He came with a guttural groan, his cum filling your mouth as you struggled to swallow it. Even when his orgasm finally stopped, you continued to lick and kiss his cock as it softened, intending to clean it as best you could. In the end, Bucky had to ease you away, and you realised you were probably overstimulating him. He didn’t leave you disappointed for long, though. Easily manhandling you back onto your seat, it was then his turn to kneel in front of you.
“Fucking perfect, sweetheart.” His hands skimmed up your thighs, sliding under your, entirely sensible, black shift dress. The thumb of his right hand brushed over the front of your panties and your throbbing clit, making you whine and twitch.
“You are soaked,” he drawled. “Good fucking girl.”
Bucky leaned into your space and his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, his tongue demanding immediate entry and no-doubt tasting himself as he did so. At the same time, the fingers of his right hand slipped under your panties, and slid through your sodden folds. His kiss swallowed your cries as he toyed with your clit, the sensation almost bordering on too much. 
Then he slid a finger inside you.
You felt Bucky smile into the kiss at your reaction, your pussy clenching down on his intrusion.
“Such a greedy pussy,” he muttered before adding a second. “I got you, Doll. Can’t wait to get my cock in you.”
Your only response was another moan and another clench around his invading digits. When he changed the angle of his fingers, you ripped your lips from his as you threw your head back.
“There it is. Look at me, sweetheart. Want you to look at me when you come.” Bucky’s voice was deep and commanding and you wouldn’t have been able to disobey him, even if you’d had the presence of mind to do so. You meet his gaze from under heavy lids as his fingers and thumb continued to drive you upwards assisted by Bucky’s voice which only ever spoken to you like this in your deepest fantasies.
“That’s it, Doll. Need you to come for me. Need to know how hard you’re gonna strangle my cock later. Need to know how beautiful you look when you come. Gonna be smelling your pussy on my fingers all evening. Hell, if I win I’ll hold that statue with this hand and get you all over it. Fuck! Do it now, sweetheart. Come now.”
Your whole body spasmed as you came, your hands gripping Bucky’s right forearm to hold him still. Up was down and down was up as the world span before your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm. Eventually though, reality had to set back in and Bucky pulled his hand from the clutch of your body.
“Bucky!” You keened, your body still sensitive, but protesting at emptiness nonetheless.
“Later, Doll,” he placated at your disappointed whine. “I meant it. This isn’t over by a long shot. I’ll see you after the ceremony. I’m ready for that red carpet now and it’s all thanks to you.” He sucked on his fingers, grinning as he did so then leaned forward and dropped a soft, almost chaste kiss to your lips.
You blinked owlishly at him, your brain still trying to process what had just happened while you clit pulsed between your folds. Bucky smiled, pulling your dress down before putting his own clothes to rights, including the top buttons of his shirt. The limo jerked to a halt a few moments later, but this time it wasn’t due to a traffic jam, but because it had pulled up right by the venue.
With a much more relaxed demeanor that when the limo had set off, Bucky alighted when the driver opened his door. It wasn’t until you watched back the footage, much later in his hotel room, that you could see that Bucky was re-buttoning his jacket as he walked up the red-carpet, a smug look plastered onto his face. Most people thought the expression was related to his nomination, but you knew better.
What you did agree with the general public on though, was the delight on Bucky’s face when his name was read out as the winner of the leading actor category. You were watching from the sides, having ridden in the limo around to the back of the venue, having used the few extra minutes to put your scrambled brain back together. You stood with the other PAs, managers and media secretaries of the main nominees, all of you with your fingers crossed. 
But while everyone else in the hall whistled and cheered when Bucky made his way to the stage for his acceptance speech, you were on your phone, quickly altering his hotel booking to include an extra night. He had promised after all.
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Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989
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iwashieonhiatus · 4 months
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🌸 Tαlk to grow 🌸 S. Kita/ f!reader
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It was past noon, and Shinsuke hadn't come back from the rice field yet. The sun was shining bright and hot for a non-fed and dehydrated Shinsuke, making you worried. You sighed, looking at the table full of food.
You put on a hat, the basket full of food and a bottle of tea in your hands, and went after him at a slow pace, hand caressing your belly. It was so hot and the basket weighed, making you think that perhaps it was too much food, but Shinsuke would be working hard all day. He deserved a good set of handmade food.
After wandering through the field, you found him crunched, his gloved hands working in the new bud of rice; you smiled soft while approaching him, listening to his mutter.
Shinsuke noticed you and faced you, seeing you carrying all those heavy things. He got up with a soft groan and took the basket and bottle, holding in an arm and, with the other hand, lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing the marriage ring.
“You should be resting, darling.” He said after a moment, guiding you to a shadow under a tree.
“I know, I know. But my dearest husband hadn't come home for lunch or a break, so I came with his supplies.” You said proud of yourself, head high and arms akimbo. Shinsuke giggled and thanked you with a kiss, helping you sit down.
You two sat in silence while he ate what you cooked for him, a pleased smile on his pink face, cheeks full of food; you smiled watching him appreciating your efforts, it made you feel so warm and loved by him.
“What were you grumbling in there, shin?” You handed him a napkin and filled a cup with tea for you.
“Thinking about why the new seeds haven't been growing yet.” He frowned, his eyes on the vast field, and you followed his gaze. The field was so teeming with rice ready to be harvested.
You hummed and faced him, his golden eyes already on you. “My mom used to talk to her flowers, and they'd grow up healthy. Maybe you should talk to it, so it'll grow up.”
He was silent, and his golden stare on you made you blush, avoiding his eyes. Shinsuke smiled, noticing the tip of your ears red, a chuckle leaving his mouth soon a laughter.
“Don't laugh at me, Shin!” You mumbled, still avoiding his eyes, and pushed him with your arm. He grabbed your arm, scooting closer, embracing you and kissing the top of your head.
“It's a pretty good idea.” He said, muffled by your hair. “My wife, besides being so skilled and generous, is very smart.”
“Shin…”
After kissing you back to your house and ensuring that you were safe at your slow pace until you disappeared from his eyesight , Shinsuke eyed the new seeds.
“Talking to you so you will grow up healthy, huh” He crunched again, ready to work.
-
You were sitting on the bed, comfortable in your pajamas, a light back pain that took a groan from you while stretching. Shinsuke made his way to you, kneeling between your legs, his head pressed to your swollen belly.
“You are giving your mom a hard time, little girl. Why don't you both take a rest, huh?” You stared at your husband, kissing and caressing your belly.
“She kicked!” He exclaimed, facing you with so much joy in those golden eyes. “She's listened to me!” He pressed his face again.
“Shin-”
“I'm talking to her, so she'll grow up healthy.” He whispered, his warm hands on your belly, and continued to talk to his baby girl, still inside you.
You were agaped for a moment and then laughed, your laugh shaking your entire body. You couldn't find words to describe that moment, just that you were bursting in love with Shinsuke Kita.
“Oh, she moved again.” You said, your hands on top of his.
“She likes your laughter, so do I.” His eyes disappeared in his broad smile.
“You both are so cheeky.” You ran your fingers through his gray and black strands as your daughter moved again, as if agreeing with you.
“I love my girls.” He whispered, kissing your belly and supporting himself on his hands to kiss you.
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cyarikasmoon · 5 months
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Sweet Thing
Bad Batch Hunter x plus size f!reader
Summary: Hunter gets an evening with you, and he doesn't have to be in charge and gets cared for like he deserves.
Pairing: Bad Batcher Hunter x plus size f!reader
Word Count: 5,087
Warnings: smut, light dom/sub, sensory deprivation, light bondage, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, slight fluff, PiV sex
Divider by @freesie-writes & @snotbuggle
A/N: So this is my first time writing smut and I had a lot of fun with this. Hunter is so baby girl and he deserves all the loving. This is also cross posted on my ao3 cyarikas_moon. I hope you enjoy!! Feedback is appreciated!
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“Hunter. Pay attention.”
He grunts softly, squirming where he kneels. 
“Trust me, I’m doing my best.” He mutters, slightly breathless. 
You raise an eyebrow. You shift gently to look down at him and he falters slightly, going still. He may not be able to see but with those senses of his but he was picking up on everything you were doing. The slightest movement, the smallest sound, the faint smell of… 
“Sorry.” He states quickly. 
“Sorry…?” You repeat his word with a slight tune to it. Teasing, mocking. 
“Sorry, Cyare.” 
“Good boy.” 
You don't miss how he stills once again, holding his breath for a split moment. 
You chuckle gently. He never let himself go easily. Why would he? Hunter was a leader, a protector, a Sergeant. He had his squad to take care of. To keep safe. They were never safe from the Empire. Always on the run, also looking over his shoulder. Hackles raised, ready for a fight. For danger. 
He was wound up so tight. Stiff and uncomfortable. He just needed to relax. To unwind and breathe and slip away. To let everything disappear and to feel safe. And that is just what you were doing for him. 
You walk around him gently. He was stripped from his waist upwards. His padded vest shirt was gone. The brown overshirt was discarded. You had peeled the top half of his blacks off of him slowly, allowing his body to get used to the exposure to the air. It wasn’t cold on Ord Mantell but Hunter couldn't stop the chill that ran through his body. His scarf served another purpose now. His hands behind his back, the red material wrapped around his wrists. Tight enough to rub against his skin if he squirmed anymore. He was a highly-trained soldier. A dangerous man. He could get out of the scarf in a fraction of a second if needed. 
But he wouldn't. Because he was a good boy. He would wait. 
His bandana had been moved down and now covers his eyes. One of his senses was taken away from him. In this moment, it was a blessing. A sweet surrender. Already, it was easier for him to begin to relax and focus. His remaining senses focused solely on you. Only you. 
You are gentle and light on your feet as you walk around him from where he knelt on the middle of the floor. He shifts in his position every now and then, the pads on his trousers saving his knees for the moment. You walk across the small space of your apartment and stop in front of your bed. Before you sit on the edge, you slip out of your trousers. Dark, thick material that makes a small thump as they drop down your legs and he cocks his head to the side, listening to the sound. 
You perch on your bed, sitting there now in just your underwear and chest bindings as you slip off your overshirt and throw it across the room. His head tilts again, following the sound. Always watching, always waiting. Wound up. Ready to spring at any moment. A soft chuckles leaves your lips and you part your legs gently, your hand moving down and your fingers gently stroking over the material of your underwear; the material thin and lacy giving you a better chance to touch yourself. 
You sigh gently, and his head turns to listen to you. He is quiet as he waits. Good and patient. You smile as you watch him at that moment. You had both been meeting up for a good few months at this point. During this time, you had many long nights together. Exploring each other and learning new things. Always new things to learn. Learning Hunter wasn't a challenge. It was a delight. A delicacy. It was… delicious
“You’re such a sweet thing really…” You murmu as you sit there, touching yourself as you watch him. 
Even though he can’t see you, he ducks his head slightly, cheeks heating up. You smirked. 
“You are Hunter. No use hiding from it.” You state. “Love seeing you like this. It’s thrilling truly, this power I get to hold over you.” 
You sighs gently as your fingers rub over your clothed pussy, pads of your fingers running over your clit, your breath hitching gently. His head snaps up fast. He takes a deep long breath through his nose, his exhale a groan. Stars, he could smell you. 
“It’s an honour as well.” You grin as you see how this affects him. “So proud that I get to see this side of you. To bring it out of you.” 
“Only you, Cyare.” He breathes out, voice earnest and desperate. 
“That's right, Pretty Boy. Only me.” 
Fingers glide over the thin material now in circular motions with ease as wetness makes them damp. His breathing picks up, slightly ragged. He squirms, shifting his weight on his knees. Wound up, ready to strike. But he wouldn't. He hadn't been given permission. Yet. 
“Proud of you for learning to let go as well.” You whisper now, moving your fingers faster. “Good boys like you deserve to have breaks and rest. To have good things. To be treated right.” 
A soft groan leaves him, restraint wearing thin. His head tilts up slightly. He breathes in. 
“Do you deserve good things, Hunter?” 
You look at him now. As he's looking up, he's leaning back onto his heels, and you can see him. Sees the outline of his cock straining in his trousers. Your fingers move faster. 
“I asked you a question, Sweet Thing.” Your voice now serious, your own needs spilling through now.
 Fingers weren't enough. And stars did he have a way with using his mouth. That tongue. Now, if only he would behave so you could both get what you want. 
“Yes…” His voice is rough and deep as he stays where he is; struggling to keep himself together. 
You slip your fingers under the waistband now and slide one in and lletout a soft sigh,. Hisgroan could be heard immediately afterwards. 
“That’s right. You deserve good things. Can you tell me what you want? Use your words, I know you can.” 
You breathe out as you curl your finger inside of yourself. You 6 yourself growing even more slick with arousal.
“Want you, Cyare. Need you.” He’s straining to move towards you but holds fast. If he 7 will all be over, and he’ll be left hard and suffering. 
“Need me, hm? I feel the same way, Pretty Boy. Fuck, I’ve missed your mouth on me… Been dreaming of it.” A second finger. “Use those memories to get myself off late at night when you’re gone on long missions when you should be here with me.” 
You speak quickly, impatient with your own game now as your heart rate picks up. You knows he can hear it. He knows, and he can smell you. 
“Cyare…” His voice sounds wrecked already and hasn’t even been able to taste you yet. 
“You can have me, Hunter. You’ve been so good waiting for me.” You whispers as you watch him, how he holds still but the slight tremor to him showing how desperate he is. “You just have to say those magic words.” 
An amused smile is on your lips at the small huff that leaves him. Just one final thing. One final thing, and he can let go and relax. You watch as he shifts slightly, his lips turned down into that trademark grumpy scowl of his when he’s thinking too hard. 
“Wasting time here, Sweet Thing.” You coo teasingly, a small sadistic smile playing on your lips. “I can just take care of myself, if not. I've been doing it all this time so-” 
“Please.” 
Hunter growls out, voice desperate and wrecked and on the verge of losing it. Giving in, giving up the power. His breathing ragged, the only thing ripping through the silence in the room. With him desperate and you victorious. 
You pull your fingers back out of your underwear and keep your legs spread as you watch him for a moment. Then you smile. 
“Come here.” 
You say it so calmly, so simply and it's like everything that was keeping him knelt in the middle of the room snapped. Anyone else would have struggled to reach you. Blind-folded, hands bound, on their knees. Not Hunter. Not your good boy. You watch with a rush of excitement that swoops through your abdomen, more arousal, making you slick at how he moves.
Hunter is pushing himself up quickly with his feet, using his knees to help so he can take the quick two strides across the room so he can fall to his knees again between your legs. You watch as his nostrils flare slightly, the sweet smell of you right in front of him now, captivating him. It was like a drug. He wanted more. He needed more. 
You smile and gently move your two wet fingers to his lips. 
“Open.” 
Hunter does with a groan, your index and middle finger in his mouth and he immediately uses his tongue to clean them, tasting your arousal like it was nectar from one of the many gods from all the different religions and planets he had heard of before. But he didn’t care about any of them. Nothing could beat this. Nothing in the whole galaxy. You smile at how he moves and cleans you up, whispering sweet words to him before you pull your fingers away. 
A noise that was a mixture of a groan and a whine leaves him as his head moves forward slightly, following your retreating fingers, fixated on the taste of you before he stops. He knows his place. He kneels there between your legs and waits for your next instruction. 
“Get these panties off of me.” You whispers and watches how he moves his head until his lips come in contact with your thighs. 
His lips press open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his nose nudging against you as he moves his way up and it bumps against the thin lacy material, how it sinks tight into your flesh and rolls overlap slightly. His mouth opens, and his teeth gently sink into her ample thigh, the plush size of them something he loves to hold if his hands are free. If he could, his large hands would be digging his fingers into your dimpled thighs and pushing them up so he could feast easily. 
But you were in charge tonight. So, for now, he will focus on what you are allowing him to have and enjoy for the moment. The pad of his tongue licks across that part of your thigh over the gentle ridges of the lightning marks on your skin. Tongue tracing the silver lines of your stretch marks. He bites down again, harder now, and your breath hitches. A sharp sudden tug on his hair has him letting go of yout skin and groaning, his cock twitching in his pants painfully now.
“Careful with those teeth.” You warn, but you love it. He knows it. “Now, listen to what I tell you to do and get these panties off of me!” 
“Yes, ma’am.” He whispers, voice deeper and huskier than usual.
You huff and roll your eyes, but you are amused and love how that word sounds from his mouth when it's for you. Always for you. 
He lowers his lips against and drags his lips across her thigh to your hip, finding the band of the panties and delicately biting down on the material and dragging it down over your love handles, and working the panties down your thighs, groaning as you push your thighs together to tease him, the thick expanse of your legs pressed together tight. He continues to work and get them off of you, and you laugh and part your legs again so he can drag them over your knees. There, you kick them off your legs gently.
He’s there waiting, almost trembling in anticipation. He can’t see, but you're right there. Your cunt is right there and he knows it's so wet, glistening with your arousal from playing with yourself and his kisses to your skin just now. He’s desperate for a taste for you. He was a drunken fool waiting for the smallest chance to experience her. 
“Been so good, baby.” You whisper, your hands now stroking his hair, and he simply melts at your touch. He would do anything for you just to touch him like this always. He’d burn down the Empire for you . “Such a good boy. Go on, Sweet Thing.” 
Finally, stars, finally. 
Hunter surges forward, burying his face deep into your cunt, his tongue immediately flat against your slick folds and dragging up wards to taste and lick at you. The long, breathless moan you let out is fucking music to his ears, spurring him on. He eagerly laps at you, groaning at how you taste and gods. You're so wet. His lips move to your clit and he sucks and you scream, back arching and pushing your cunt against his face. He moves back to your folds and focuses on kissing and licking them. He knows you like the slow build-up, not too much at once. You don't get long evenings like this often. He wanted to savour everything he could. He would happily stay buried here, face in your pussy until he forgot the horrific world outside until all he knew was you, you, you. 
Your fingers slide back through his long locks, and your nails scratch at his scalp, and he groans, burying his tongue inside of you, and you pull. His cock ached in his pants, straining against the material. Everything felt so good, so fucking good but it wasnt enough. He needed, he needed- 
Your hands moved to the back of the bandana and how it was pulled down over his eyes. Your fingers toy with it, not pulling it off yet. But the option is there. He’s nodding against you, humming and making you sigh softly.
“Do you want to see, Sweet Thing?” You whispers, playing with the material. “I need you to answer me.” 
He pulls away for a moment, mouth wet and glistening. “Please, Cyare.” 
You smile and guide him back to your cunt and he continued to eat you out. The bandana is pulled slowly off of his head and strands of his hair fall across his face. He blinks and his eyes adjust to the soft light in the room. You look down at him, his eyes just visible over the velvet swell of your stomach. As he sucks on your clit his eyes look glazed over, so happy to be tasting you, consumed by your smell and taste. 
His dark brown eyes were virtually black, blown out with lust, and already seeming so far gone just from this. His eyes finally focus and find your eyes as your grip on his hair tightens. 
“There’s my Pretty Boy…” You whisper as you grind against his mouth. “Fuck you feel so good…” 
He groans against your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you and you moan softly, eyes rolling back and closing. You throws your head back, feeling your orgasm building, panting hard as it all builds. 
“C’mon Hunter, I’m close. Make me cum, Pretty boy. Make me cum.” You say quickly, moans becoming louder and more high pitched. “I know you can do it with just your mouth, you’re so good at it.”
He groans against your cunt, your words spurring him on. He nips and licks and sucks. The noises you make because of his actions and how he can make you feel this fucking good is like music to his ears. He sucks on your clit hard and you cry out, choking off with a moan. Your back arches, pushing your cunt further against his face. You pull hard on his hair and his eyes flutter shut. Your body trembles as your orgasm hits you, and he quickly laps up your release. He continues happily, lost in your cunt and your pleasure. His slow kisses and licks dwindling down as you ride through your orgasm, your fingers letting go of the harsh grip on his hair, gently tapping his cheek, and he instantly pulls away. 
“Fuck…” You whisper and smile. 
He watches softly, resting his tattooed cheek on the plump flesh of your stomach, panting himself, mouth wet, eyes focusing again. His hands are still bound behind his back. You look down and grin, stroking his hair. He leans into your touch, his nose nudging, almost nuzzling into the squishy skin of your stomach. He places a gentle kiss there that makes something deep within your core swoop, and he presses a kiss to your palm as your hand moves down from his hair to then stroke his cheek.
“Fuck, you’re so good Sweet Thing…” You whisper, chest rising and falling heavily. 
“Anything for you…” He whispers, voice rough. “Love your cunt, Cyare…” 
You laugh softly and grin at him, the thumb stroking his cheek, moving to his lips, running along the bottom one. 
“Want more of it, Sweet Thing? You’ve been so good and patient for me… Making me feel so good with that mouth of yours. Do you deserve a reward?” You ask him.
He groans softly, mouth gently biting the soft flesh of your stomach in a gentle nip. You tap his cheek as a gentle chide but you smile.
“Answer me, Hunter.” 
“I’ll take anything you give me.” The way he stares up at you, brown eyes baring deep into you, voice so sincere, you feels another sharp tug of want. 
“Fuck, c’mere.” 
You're sitting up now, leaning over him and down, lips connecting, and you kiss messy and quick. Your hands are reaching round his back to undo the scarf tied around his wrists. His tongue grazes across your bottom lip and soon you can taste yourself in his mouth. Hot breath and the slight clash of teeth, and finally, his hands are free. The moment the scarf falls, his hands move round to your thighs, holding onto the thick expanse of flesh. His hands are large by any means and he uses that to his advantage to possibly touch and grab and hold as much of your thighs as he can, nails digging in and he’s applying the perfect amount of pressure that he knows drives you crazy. Hearing you gasp into his mouth as his tongue swipes in fuels him on, and he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your thighs as he continues to kiss you like a starved man. 
“Hunter, Sweet Thing.” You gasp against his lips your hands have found their way up to his hair again, tangled in the long dark tresses. “Can you still be good for me?” 
“Yeah.” He grunts against you, forehead resting against your cheek for a moment as he seems to almost be catching his breath, collecting his thoughts in his fuzzy mind. Everything was just so good. The feel, the scent, the sight. Everything. 
“Up.” You 6 he stands in front of you, your eyesight now in line with his crotch and your hands move to his belt, pulling it away and pulling his pants down. 
Now in just his underwear, you sees the thick outline of his cock straining against the material, a dark patch forming. You run a gentle finger over the outline of it, and the sergeant trembles. The groan you pull from him is beautiful. You move your fingers away and quickly discards his underwear. His cock now free, hard and aching, dark and leaking pre cum. 
You bites your lip as you stare, smirking to yourself how he stands in front of you, knowing he can't make a move. Not even as you reach up and wrap nimble fingers around his length. You move your hand up and down slowly, pumping him once. 
“So pretty….” You whisper, staring up at him. 
He’s so tall compared to you. Towering over you, his chest rises and falls, with a toned body thick with muscle. He was a literal killing machine, a specialised clone, a sergeant. He’d seen battle after battle, and now, here he was. Stood trembling before the woman sat on the bed in front of him. All he wanted to do was touch you. You were sitting there, thighs spread slightly, leaning forward, your breasts hanging there, and he just wanted to cup them and grab them. Have you whining for him as he gropes and squeezes, his tongue running across them. He wanted to make you feel good. To pleasure you, be at your beck and call to do whatever you need. Ever. But no, he stands there frozen, stuck on the spot. Trembling with how your hand holds his cock now, not moving and he was desperate. 
He juts his hips forward slightly, trying to find some movement, some friction. Your hand squeezes around his cock in warning and he groans softly. He clenches his teeth, grinding them slightly, and his dark eyes fall on yours as you stare up at him, eyes narrowed, but the lust was full blown in them. 
“Be good, baby.” You whisper, but you are just so turned on, your thighs clenched together. 
“I’m tryin’.” He grunts out again, trying to stand still. 
His eyes fall shut as you pump him once more. 
“You made me feel so good just now, Sweet Thing… You deserve your reward now.” You coo softly. 
As he opens your eyes to see what you mean, he sees you just in time, your tongue darting out and licking up the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum on the tip of your tongue and he can't help but moan. His cock twitches in your hand. 
“Cyare… Please…” He grits out. 
You grin up at him and squeezes his cock once more before you lets go. 
“Sound so pretty begging for me…" Seems that you're finally listening.” You smirk softly, and he huffs to himself. 
He then focuses as you shuffle back to lay on the bed, parting your legs and rubbing your clit gently and he bites his lip as he looks at the view of your glistening cunt. 
“Come and fuck me, Pretty Boy.” 
Permission. The green light. The thread snapped. 
Hunter surges forward, on top of you in a second. Eyes wild and pupils blown, like a crazed man as he stares down at your body. His eyes travel over your breasts, your stomach and rolls, looking at his cock between your legs, rubbing against your entrance. You breath hitches and you move your hips to rub your cunt against his dick. Your wet folds coating his cock in your arousal. 
She grinds your hips, staring up at him with a grin. Your hand reaches up and brushes down his chest, over the few curls of dark hair there, moving down his sternum. Dragging lightly over his stomach and down his happy trail, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. You give it a squeeze. The pressure makes him groan above above, his dick twitching in your hand. The pearl of pre cum rubbing onto your clit as he waits. 
You look up into his eyes, both heavy and full of lust. You remain staring up at him, keeping this contact as you hold his cock and guides him into you, allowing him to push into your cunt. He instantly fills you up, sinking in all the way. A deep sound crawls its way out of his throat, a heavy grunt that's almost primal. Animalistic. Below him, your lips have parted into a silent sound, almost as if couldn't say anything. A light, airy breath left your lips, almost in a shaky manner as you look up at him. 
He’s there staying still, worshipping the feel of your tight, wet heat around him, your clenching your muscles around him, relishing in this feeling. They stay like that for a moment, living a lifetime in a second before you're moving your hand to hold his chin with your finger and your thumb, pulling him close and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. 
“Fuck me like you mean it, Sweet Thing.” You whisper, lips grazing against his. 
He pulls out almost all of the way before he’s slamming back into you, causing you to cry out, and he grins. Here was his reward. To turn you into a mess like you had done to him. His hips snap forward, picking up speed into a steady and fast rhythm. Neither of them were going to last long tonight, it seemed. 
His hands are on you. One holding the overlapping plush skin of your hip, nails digging in and leaving crescent moon shape marks there. You want them to last for days. His other hand cups your breast, squeezing, fondling, groping. You lean down and drag his tongue up her sternum, between your breasts, and begin to pepper kisses across the skin. He keeps doing this until he reaches your hardening nipple. He takes it into his mouth, and it pebbles at the wet contact. 
You're moaning and throwing your head back, eyes closed in bliss at the feeling of everything. The pet names have long gone at this moment. Just the constant chant of Hunter, Hunter, Hunter. With each moan of his name, he finds himself plunging harder and deeper into your cunt. The sergeant is drunk off the taste of your pussy, the feel of it wrapped around him. He releases your nipple and is panting ragged above you, his hot breath tickling your skin. 
He glances at your for a moment, dark eyes begging, telling you what he needs as he now slows and makes deep, slow agonising thrusts, grinding deep into you. You open your eyes at the change of pace and catch his eyes. Those pretty eyes. God, he had been so good. Your hands move up into his thick dark hair, threading through and nails scratching his scalp as you hold onto his hair. 
“Cum for me, baby.” You breathes out, clenching around him. “Cum in me, Sweet Thing.” 
Hunter’s grinding deep now, deep low grunts leaving him as he spears his cock deep into you. His hips stutter as his rhythm breaks, becoming unsteady as his orgasm builds. His name is a prayer on your lips. Your name is a whisper breathed onto your skin like a confession, a secret. In that moment, as he is bowed over you, his lips pressing kisses to your collar bone now up to the juncture of your neck that meets your shoulder. All act and pretence is gone as your walls flutter around him and his cock pulses deep within you. 
You're close as well. He can tell. How your heart rate has picked up, the small shake to your body that he can feel on his fingertips. The tremor in your voice, getting more high-pitched. You were so close and you could cum on just his cock alone but-
He is quick to move one hand between them to press his fingers to your clit and your cries flood his senses, burning into his mind forever. He growls low and deep as he cums, long thick ropes deep inside of you. He grunts into your skin as his teeth sink down into the flesh of your shoulder. You clench tight around him as your body ripples with the white heat of your orgasm at the feeling of how he fills you up and how those skilled fingers of his pull you apart with ease. 
He collapses on top of you, teeth letting go of your skin to kiss and nuzzle his nose into your neck, breathing heavy. His cock still twitches inside of you and you whine softly at the feeling. Your nerves feel like they are all alight and on fire in the best possible way. Your hands have moved to wrap around him as best as they can, struggling to fully hold his toned torso. Your hands find their home with one in his hair, the other clinging to his back, almost in a possessive claim; desperate to keep him close. 
The world is quiet. He relaxes. He focuses on the simple rhythmic sounds of both of your breathing. Quick, deep, shaky. He can feel the thrum of your heartbeat and how it calms him. With all of the chaos in this messed up broken galaxy, he finds himself stuck in and trying to save his family and keep them safe… You are a constant. Your heartbeat, your laugh, your touch, how you care for him. His hands move around and squeeze your plush body. 
“You okay, Sweet Thing?” You whisper the name once more, checking his space, checking him.
He nods against you. 
“Yeah Cyare.” He lifts his head up to look at you and matches your small smile with his own lazy grin. “Everything’s perfect.” 
“Yeah? You were so good…” You whisper as you stroke the tattooed side of his face. 
“Well, it’s almost perfect.” He comments. 
Your face is cute as it turns into a confused frown. Your lips, bow-shaped, jut out into a pout that he can't help but kiss again. 
“What-?” You begin to say, trying to talk in between the kisses he peppers you with and you feels his cock twitch inside you again before he pulls out. 
You gasp softly at the sudden, empty feeling, feeling how he leaks out of you. He looks down at the mess between them and the sight of your pretty cunt and grins up at you. 
“Have to clean this up. Now that’s my reward.” He commented, that smirk on his lips, and it grew at the sound of your laughter. 
A light cackle of pure joy and disbelief. The laugh he only gets to hear when he's just so relaxed and just his in that moment. 
“You’re unbelievable!” You scoff, but the amusement is evident from the happy gleam in your eyes. 
“You love it.” He grunts out, the smell of your captivating him again.
“Yeah, I do.” You whispers, words light and airy as your eyes close in bliss as the sergeant buries his face between your thick thighs. And the silence of the night is replaced with gentle moans once more.  
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am i the asshole for yelling at my dad?
🚗 to identify
TRIGGER WARNING: somewhat stalking, anger issues, mentions of violence, mentions of threats. stay safe guys.
just to provide some background, i (14n) am a bit of an unregulated crier. the tiniest things (like what happened today) make me start bawling. i'm trying to work on it since my mom (47f) says it's me being a bit dramatic. on the other hand, my father (48m) has some problems when it comes to getting frustrated. the place where i live can have a lot of traffic and road rage incidents so this isn't too uncommon for me to experience. i just never reacted quite like this before.
anyways, what happened was my dad had just picked me up from school. i had just had a very long day (school hours are from 7:30-2:30, i stayed until 5 for additional extra curriculars) and was letting him know about my day. we were talking, he was driving a bit slow, and everything was kinda okay. but when we got to this intersection, someone turned in front of him, cutting him off. i could tell the random driver was in a bit of a rush, so it wasn't really that upsetting to me. but my dad got really angry, flipping them off and honking loudly, as well as rolling down the window to give them a few choice words.
i told him to calm down, and he kind of did, saying to me a couple of curse words about that driver but i ignored him. but as we kept driving he seemed to get more frustrated. eventually, someone else cut him off and he completely lost it, screaming and honking and cursing really loudly. again, i told him to calm down, it wasn't really a big deal. but he wouldn't stop.
he continued to get mad about that driver, saying he was going to speed up and catch up to them to give them a piece of his mind. he ran a red light just to do so (he later told me it wasn't that important since its one of those tiny lights by little gated communities and no one was in the road). eventually when he caught up, he followed them for a while, and noticed them turning into our neighborhood.
he got weirdly fixated from then on, going in circles around our neighborhood to see where the car went. he kept making comments, saying that the driver was screwed because "he'd know where they live", and that "they were going to regret it".
i got scared, because i know sometimes when he gets into one of these moments he won't be sensical. there have been several moments before where i've begged him to just let things go because they (to me at least) aren't a big deal. he's repeatedly made threats in our house to the neighbors (he doesn't like their fireworks) and has mentioned specifically how he planned on getting a gun and sh00ting them. so i might've gotten a bit scared.
i told him to stop, and i told him he wouldn't find them because i saw them park. immediately he turned on me, demanding to know where they went. i got scared again but didn't say anything. he got really pushy and so i took my phone out and called my mom.
my mom (47f) is one of the only people my dad listens to. after calling her twice, she picks up the phone. it's hectic because he's still circling the neighborhood, and im trying to tell her that he's trying to chase someone to their house and she has to tell him to stop and to take us home.
she does tell him that, and he relents. we take a turn back to our house but that's when he sees the other driver's car. and that's when all shit goes down. because he starts laughing and saying they'll get what they deserve, and that they'll regret it, and he memorizes their fucking address.
i tell him to stop, to just ignore it (for the fiftieth time) but he ignores me. i just explode, yelling at him and telling him not everything is a personal slight against him, and not everything requires such an extreme response. i tell him he gets upset over minor things, and he doesn't have to be like that.
he just replies that he isn't the one upset, and that i'm the one yelling at him. i cry.
so tumblr, am i the asshole? it's none of my business what my parents do and i could've told him nicely to let it go. and my fears were based on assumptions of prior comments i didn't have the full context of. i really hope i did the right thing but it bothers me i stooped to his level by getting upset.
What are these acronyms?
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gingerbloof · 9 months
Text
Glimpse of Us (An Ascended!Astarion x Spawn Fem!Tav Ongoing Series)
summary: When Tav helps Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension, she realizes that he is no longer the man she had fallen in love with. However, she does her best to make her true love happy. But will the cost of her self worth and identity prove too much to pay for the price of love? contents: 18+, blood/blood drinking, hurt/no comfort, tragedy, manipulation, abusive relationship, anxiety, panic attacks, eventual smut, major character death chapter word count: 1,019
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chapter 1: The Day of the Ascension
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“Ecce dominus, Has animas offero in sacrificio, Nunc volo protestatum quam pollicitus es mihi!”
Tav listened to the foreign, dark words that left Astarion’s lips as the blinding red light surrounded him. His arms thrown out and his eyes glowing a terrifying hue. She watched as all his siblings’ bodies burst apart, their blood pooling down towards him.
Her eyes were wide with bewilderment. She was so proud of him… Everything he ever wished for was coming true, and that’s all she ever wanted for her love. So why did she feel like something terrible was happening?
She briefly heard Shadowheart shout, trying to stop him. A low growl left him as he stared at her angrily. “Don’t you dare,” He said, his eyes glowing ever brighter. “I can feel their power flowing into me!”
Cazador was the last one to burst. He let out a deafening scream as he did, his blood flowing to the sigil that Astarion stood upon. Soon enough, the light dimmed down and Astarion let out a sigh of relief. “I… I can’t feel it,” He muttered breathlessly. “The hunger, it’s gone! I’m free!” The smile on his face could bring light to the darkest day. Tav had never seen him so happy, and she was happy for him.
“You did it! You really did it!” She smiled wide and ran to give Astarion a big hug. He smirked devilishly as she did, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “I did… We did.” He said, placing a soft kiss on her head. As she let go and turned around, she saw all the disapproving faces on her other companion’s faces. Shadowheart looked undeniably hurt, and Gale shook his head as he looked at her with furrowed brows. But she didn’t care what they thought. As long as her love was safe and happy, she would do anything for him.
Astarion holds his hands in front of him, that devilish smirk still pinned to his face. “This is it…” He said triumphantly. “The hopeless dream dreamt by all my kind… I am the greatest vampire to ever walk this land!” He grinned a fang filled grin. Tav smiled back at him, getting ever so lost in his happiness. “You are magnificent,” Tav said in a whisper. It was true, though he looked the same there was something very different about his stature, the way he held himself. He had more confidence than she had ever seen in anyone. He deserved to feel this way, he always had.
“I felt so very little, for so long…” He said, his voice starting to twinge with sadness. “My edges dulled over the numb years rotting in the boudoir and kennels,” It was true. For so long, too long, Astarion was only ever made to be consumed and to consume. He never had any ounce of self worth these last 200 years, and now he was finally, truly free from it. 
“Now…” He began, a growl in his voice. “I can hear it at last… See it at least. How all the lowly creatures of this plane are begging to serve. How to call upon them.” These words made Tav’s heart drop. Lowly creatures? Serve? Maybe he was still chasing the adrenaline high from achieving his goal… This wasn’t Astarion at all. 
“Scurrying footpads in their safe-houses, rats below our feet in their filthy holes, the crows in the night above! They will… Obey.”
Tav’s face began to grow with worry. What in the hells was Astarion talking about?
His eyes met hers for the first time since the Rite began. His eyes grew with hunger and demand. “In you, too,” He said, pointing at her. “I can tell… Your heartbeat races. You go quiet when I speak… You await my command… The world will stir with fear.”
Tav started to slowly back away from her love, her heart aching at his words. He was so different… Too different.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she spoke, slow and wary. “Star… You’re starting to scare me…” She expected him to stop this dramatic, power hungry speech when she said this. She expected him to realize what he was saying, but unfortunately he didn’t. He continued, not even batting an eye to the fact that he was striking fear into the one he loved most. “Our lives will never be the same again. Everything will be our’s. Everything. I can already hear the world whispering in sweet surrender. And I feel alive!” He chuckled darkly, closing his eyes and basking in his new found power. It was as if he was the only one in the room. He paid no mind to show concern when Tav began to shake with fear at the sight of her lover, completely reborn. He was unrecognizable.
She let out a nervous chuckle, trying her best to not overthink about what her love was saying. “I’m just happy you’re happy, Star…” She said with a sad smile on her face. “You deserve nothing more than to be free.” Astarion smiled and walked toward her, placing a searing kiss on her lips. She kissed back reluctantly, getting lost in him. He pulled her in by her waist with one hand and cupped her face gently with the other. He broke the kiss quickly, staring into her eyes hungrily. “My treasure,” He said, the new pet name surprising Tav. “You are going to be wonderfully obedient.” 
He let her go and started to leave the palace, leaving Tav and his other companions behind, still acting like he was the only one who was there. The way he let her go was almost like batting a fly away. Dismissive, and crude. Tav felt her heart crack and splinter a bit at his words and the way he let her go. It felt as if he only acknowledged her when it benefited him.
As the rest of the party slowly left Cazador’s palace,Tav stood there silently, looking back at the gruesome scene behind her. There was only one thought drifting through Tav’s mind…
What have I done?
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authors note: trying out a chapter by chapter series :') it's my first one and i'm so excited to see how it turns out! i have also decided to make a special playlist for this fic series! each chapter is going to have a song from the play list associated with it, and i will link it with each chapter that i post! i am planning on releasing a new chapter every friday, but if that falters i do apologize. i hope you all enjoy! reblogs and comments are much appreciated
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alice-after-dark · 3 months
Text
Deer Wife AU - Special Broadcast
Inspired by @hiemaldesirae's deer sinner Vox designs (1 | 2 | 3 | 4) and his Attic-Wife Vox AU
Vox listens to Alastor's radio show for the first time.
Feel better soon, Ran!
Alastor's show is its own trigger warning.
The radio Alastor had gotten him was gorgeous. It was a beautiful Cathedral-style one, handcrafted and custom made. Vox had flustered endlessly when Alastor had casually placed it atop his bedside table. It had to have cost a small fortune! He couldn't possibly accept such a gift! But Alastor had only tutted, told him he deserved the best, and assured him his finances were not at all in jeopardy. He was happy to spoil him.
Vox now lies across his bed, waiting eagerly for Alastor's show to start. The red deer had been mysterious about what exactly his show would entail, especially regarding his "special guest" for the event. Vox hasn't left his room much since the incident, but Alastor has assured him that it's alright. He had quite the scare, after all. The blue deer feels a burst of butterflies when he hears the Radio Demon's smooth voice filter in over the static.
"Salutations, listeners!" Alastor greets his audience. "Today I have a very special broadcast for you! A little lesson in what happens when someone touches what is mine."
The static flares for a moment on the last word and Vox's heart beats faster. Alastor is talking about him. He's announcing to all of Hell that Vox belongs to him. That should probably disturb him more than it does. It probably definitely shouldn't make him as giddy as a teenage girl who just got asked to go steady with her boyfriend. Never in his life had he truly felt so entirely and utterly wanted. Alastor took him for everything he was and everything he wasn't. He made him feel safe and secure in a way he never had. He handled him with care and doted on him endlessly. Alstor made him feel like something precious, not just a pretty face.
In the background, Vox can hear the faint muffled whimpers and cries of who he assumes is the Sinner he'd killed. It had been about two weeks before the Sinner had regenerated enough for Alastor to proclaim him broadcast-ready...whatever that meant. He can hear the red deer's footsteps as he moves closer to those stifled sounds.
"Oh come now, my good man! This is quite unbecoming! Sniveling like this, my goodness. What would the papers say?"
There is a light shuffling and a gasp.
"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! PLEASE LET ME GO! I SWEAR I WON'T GO NEAR HIM AGAIN! YOU'LL NEVER SEE ME AGAIN! PLEASE!"
Alastor laughs and the sound makes Vox's heart flutter. "Why you are certainly right on both those claims, sir! You won't ever touch him again and no one will ever see you again."
Whatever the Sinner intends to say next is cut off by his own screams. The sound of flesh tearing erupts from the speakers.
He's eating him alive, Vox realizes as a shiver rushes up his spine. He's eating him alive on live broadcast for all of Hell to hear because he hurt me.
Eventually, the screams fade out and only a weak gurgling is left in their place. Then silence until Alastor's voice returns.
"I do hope that was as much of a joy for you all as it was for me! Until next time, my listeners!"
Music began to play (Vox recognized it as one of the songs Alastor would play for him on the record player) and soon enough there was a knock on his door. Despite his recent meal, Alastor is pristine as always. He puts his arms around Vox's waist and pulls him close. "Did you like the show, my dear?"
Vox nods eagerly, snuggling up to the Radio Demon's chest. "It was great. Are all your shows like that?"
-
Alastor hums as he traces Vox's ear with the tip of his claw, making it twitch. "Not all of them. Sometimes I talk about myself and my life above. Sometimes I just play music. It depends on my mood really."
The blue deer flattens his ears. "You've barely told me anything about your life! I only just got started listening to your show..." He squeaks when Alastor picks him up and carries him over to the little loveseat nestled into the corner of the room. He sets Vox on his lap and kisses his quickly.
"All you need do is ask, darling. What you you like to know?"
The suggestive position makes the blue deer blush, but he quickly shakes it off. He leans his head on Alastor’s should and gazes up at him adoringly. "What was your first kill like?"
"My, my, going right for the jugular, aren't we?" The Radio Demon sits back, eyes wistful. "It was my uncle, actually. My father had recently passed and..."
(Here's the radio he got Vox btw. Fun fact, it costs almost 50k)
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nikholascrow · 10 months
Text
whisper - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 902
Tw: physical abuse / parental abuse
(he gets comforted i swear)
Sirius was having a nightmare again. It seemed like he was always having those nowadays ever since he’d left Regulus in that house, even if he had his brother back now he couldn’t shake the fear, the guilt.
He was huddled in a corner of the kitchen shielding regulus from view as best he could as their faceless mother screamed. flashes of light bounced around the room
“SELFISH. UNGRATEFUL. DISGUSTING CHILD.” she howled every word punctuated by a flash of light.
Each spell missed, her focus disrupted by her anger, eyes wild with rage. Usually she was quiet when she was angry, cold, steely, and cruel. Tonight was different, tonight was red hot and desperate. Another flash of light and he was struck by searing pain, his vision went white hot. Someone screamed he couldn’t tell if it was him or Regulus. there was nothing but pain. endless unbearable pain.
his eyes flew open and he sat up straight, cold sweat dripping down his neck and back. Sirius drew in a shaky breath and pulled his knees up against his chest. He was in the Potter’s house, Regulus was just down the hall, they were safe, they were fine. Despite the fact that he knew his brother was fast asleep and completely safe, Sirius pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed tiptoeing out of his room and down the empty hall. Regulus’ door creaked open quietly and there he was, in bed with James curled around him smiling softly in his sleep, Sirius smiled too. He eased shut the door and stood there, one hand on the doorknob.
“Pads?” Sirius jumped Remus had somehow managed to silently creep out of his room into the hallway
“Jesus christ moony-“ Sirius hissed just above a whisper “what the hell are you doing up?”
Remus raised an eyebrow “I have a better question, why did I wake up at two in the fucking morning to you blundering down the hallway?” Remus didn’t look annoyed, just concerned.
Damn his incredibly pretty best friend and his extra sensitive werewolf senses. “Just checking on Reg and Prongs, someone had to make sure they were keeping it pg” Sirius forced a grin but it didn’t do much to hide the way his bloodshot eyes avoided his friend’s gaze.
“Another nightmare?” Remus asked softly it wasn’t really a question he already knew the answer but sirius nodded anyway. “wanna sleep with me tonight?”
“yes please-“ his voice was barely above a whisper but Remus seemed to hear him loud and clear.
Sirius followed Remus into his bedroom and slipped into bed next to him. He felt so small and weak in the big bed like he was sinking into the mattress and it would swallow him whole, then strong arms wrapped around him and the feeling evaporated. He buried his head in Remus’ chest and Remus ran his fingers through Sirius’ dark curls.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Remus asked softly it wasn’t demanding, it wasn’t required, it was a simple invitation, and it meant the world to Sirius.
Sirius shook his head gently
“You didn’t deserve it, Pads, whatever she did, neither of you deserved that.” Sirius’ bloodshot eyes were becoming glossy with tears again.
Sirius just buried his face deeper into Remus’ sweater and Remus’ free hand began tracing stars on his back. It calmed him and his eyes began to flutter as Remus whispered comforting words to him that contrasted the screams he’d woken up to. He drifted off to sleep in the arms of his best friend and the boy he loved.
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explorevenus · 1 year
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I’m curious what you’ll do for this emoji: 🔥
Congrats at 1k!!! You deserve it bestie <3
TEA. I LOVE U.
i feel like this is 100% not what you were imagining when u chose this emoji but idk it just came to me so i ran with it sdjfhdjflidsfijh
context for those of u just joining us: this is part of an ask game where i write a yandere!leon blurb based on emojis in celebration of hitting 1k followers !! requests for this game are closed now. thanks everyone for participating and for being patient while i work through the rest of the emojis my asks <33
tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, fem!reader, daddy kink, pet names, reader is in captivity, leon uses a knife (to cut vegetables but still), extremely brief mention of hypothetical self harm
blurb under the cut !! <3
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You were bored. You had begged Leon to just let you sit with him while he made dinner. You needed out of that bedroom, out of that bed, you needed something. Anything.
It didn't take him too long to cave on your request-- after all, he found it quite sweet that you wanted to spend time with him. That you were begging for it. Finally, he relented, taking your hand as he led you downstairs and into the kitchen, lifting you up into the tall chair at the kitchen counter.
"Stay put, okay, princess?" He commanded gently. "Don't want you getting hurt."
You're just cooking dinner, how could I possibly hurt myself? You thought stubbornly, but outwardly, you nodded obediently. "Okay, daddy," You said quietly, a near whisper as you zoned out watching him begin to prepare a meal.
He set a pot on the stove to boil before he started cutting up ingredients, which was satisfying to watch. He had incredible knife discipline. You weren't really sure what he was making, but in all honesty, you didn't care-- he hadn't let you down thus far. Sure, he was crazy, but he was skilled at cooking comfort food from scratch.
You were hypnotized by the sight of his knife slicing through vegetables and trimming meat… until it began to make you a little uncomfortable. You were plagued with the image of what he could do to you with a knife. Squirming in your seat, you let your gaze trail over to the stove, eyes hooking on the bright blue flames that licked over the bottom of the pot of water.
Fire. You thought of what you could do with fire. Burn the house down, injure him horribly, injure yourself horribly… It was an oddly comforting thought. You knew he wouldn't ever let you near an open flame, but hey, a girl can dream, right?
But then you thought of the nice things you could do with fire. Light a candle, curl up by a fireplace, burn some incense… You missed having those small freedoms, things you never even considered would feel like such a distant reality before you wound up here. Leon's rules for you were stifling in ways you could hardly conceptualize, but every day was a reminder.
Leon noticed you were staring, following your gaze to the stove. "What are you thinking about, hm?" He asked softly, handing you a slice of red pepper he'd just cut as a snack.
You snapped out of your daze, taking the vegetable from him without question. "N-Nothing," You stammered. Unconvincing. "I was just zoning out."
"Ah," He nodded, though his eyes were narrowed with suspicion. "Don't get any ideas, little one. It's not safe for you to play with fire."
You forced a weak smile, taking a bite of the sweet red pepper. "I know," You said. "Wasn't planning on it."
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maryannecrimsworth · 2 years
Text
Little Spider Show
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Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10
Guide for tormented hearts
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Selective mute Reader
Warnings: anxiety crisis; another bullying(I mean, revenge) scene;
Summary: You are not the one who forgets. Not when they called you worthless for no reason and made you vomit in the middle of the hallway. So as soon as you woke up and your brother unlocked your cell, you knew exactly how to take revenge. Your plan was going to work perfectly — until Wednesday sat beside you. But you had no idea that her plan would be so much better than yours.
Hank was staring directly at you when you sat up inside the cage. You were still dirty and wearing Nevermore’s uniform, but you felt great. Your head was light and your eyes moved softly, none of it hurt nor ached. Even your jaw and teeth, which used to be sore every time you woke up, did not hurt at all. Seriously, you were smiling before you met your brother’s gaze.
"Good morning." His voice was low. Too low. Hank has gotten tired of asking how your night was and how you were feeling, so he always remained in silence as he unlocked your cage. Was it a good night or bad one? "Are you going to school today?" His tone was soft. So soft. Hank only spoke like this with students and fragile people. He wouldn't speak with you like that. Unless the night was terrible.
"Yes. " Your throat was dry and your voice was hoarse but you kept going. "Are you not?"
There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messier than usual. Hank walked away from you, pacing loudly and slowly around the room while his hands ran through his hair frantically. "I know about yesterday." You swore a hairball fell from his head. "I will talk with these girls and I—"
"Wow, Enid really deserves the 'gossip queen' title, doesn't she?" You walked over your closet. "It's alright, Han, we know this would happen sooner or later."
"No!" He retorted. "No, none of it is supposed to happen. I promised you that I would keep you safe and—"
"We are fucked up, Hank." You turned towards him with your clothes in your hands. "We are odd and devilish and there will always be these stupid people to bother us." Hank swallowed dryly because of your words, guilt heavily falling upon his shoulder. "And it's fine by me. I'm safe. I like Nevermore." You smiled at him. "Don't get involved, please. I can handle it." They would pay for it, you thought, but your kind smile did fool Hank. 
"Okay." He sighed. "Okay, go take a bath and brush your teeth. We're having coffee at the Weathervane."
X
“What is it?” You asked as Hank delivered you a hot mug. The liquid was light brown with a bit of cream on top of it — this was not your order. You're supposed to drink milk, pure milk, as you have done your whole life.
“Latte.” you snorted and pushed the mug away. “What?”
“Mama said I can’t have coffee.”
“Mama can rot in hell, Y/N.” His dark voice startled you. “Sorry. Look, she never wanted you to have coffee because you are more useful asleep. You were more useful.” You could see Hank scolding himself internally. “Try it. I’m sure you’re going to like it.” Hank winked and you said nothing. “It will help you to stay awake longer.” 
This argument was enough to make you grab the mug and drink it all at once. Your whole face turned red as some of the boiling liquid ran out of your lips.
“I burned myself.” You whined, painting and cleaning your mouth with your sleeve. 
“Of course you did.” Hank pulled your ear. “You moron.”
X
The morning went on without much problem. You could swear someone roared behind your back but, as always, your focus remained on the teacher speaking, not on your incredibly pleasant classmates. The Biology and Chemistry classes passed smoothly: you held your pen with one hand and your notebook with the other, writing diligently so as not to raise any worries from your teacher. But, your notes had nothing to do with the words on the black board — you were writing down all the items you needed for your plan, not caring much about the ionic bonds and mammals. 
Until the lunch break, you needed to gather, somehow, a ipecac leaf and find a plant dehydrator. You figured you might have luck if you took a trip to the greenhouse, even though your brother had forbidden you to go there. Well, the worst that could happen to you was another pull on your ear — so you decided: you would go to the greenhouse, you only needed to wait for the bell to ring again and then sneak out the class. 
You smiled to yourself and closed your notebook when a pair of eyes made your skin burn. You lifted your head and looked at the teacher. 
“Our next exam is going to be a pair research.” He said, probably not for the first time. “Are you comfortable with your pairing?” His eyes dropped to the figure sitting beside you. You followed the teacher’s gaze and — you held your breath instinctively — Wednesday Addams was staring at you this whole time. Why haven't you been left alone this time? You had been released from pair work from the very first day. And it was just a research paper, you saw the topic written on the board, you could do it all by yourself and— wait, why wasn't Wednesday blinking?
“Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Torres. The mad scientist and her little helper puppy can become the duo of your nightmares!” The class laughed because of that same shrill voice of yesterday. So…you supposed you were the puppy? 
What was this girl's obsession with calling you a dog? It was your brother who trained werewolves! 
“A mad scientist usually has a monster at their disposal.” A cold voice struck back and everyone turned to its owner. Of course Wednesday wouldn't keep it shut. “I can confirm it.”
Some students squealed and laughed at the expression of fear that made the shrill-voiced girl pale.
“Silence!” Mrs.Torres tried to regain control of the class.“Mrs. L/N?” You tried to look up at the teacher again, but everyone’s gaze was on you. The laughter did not stop and the whispers grew louder as Wednesday kept sitting gracefully by your side. She was all that: confident, scary and strong-minded — while you could not even force yourself to answer the teacher. An expectant silence dominated the room as the professor's eyes remained on you. “Are…you…comfortable…with…your…pairing?” He asked ridiculously slower, as if you had some kind of retardation or deafness. Now the entire class looked at you as if you indeed had it. Even Wednesday’s gaze got bewildered as your sweat started to drop on your desk. 
Of course I’m not comfortable, I am never comfortable with these purple-dressed teenagers around me.  
You tried to swallow the knot that came up in your throat, but the movement made you cough instantly. Your mouth and throat were so dry that a painful itch spread all over your neck and you weren’t able to breathe anymore. Your whole body was shaken by the coughing as you covered your lips and sprinted out the room. 
You heard loud laughs while you rushed down the hallway, looking for the nearest toilet with the air being violently expelled from your lungs. Your abdomen and chest were already shaking with spasms by the time you broke into the restroom and sank your head into the sink. You turned on the tap and drank the water in quick sips, guiding the water to your lips with your hands. 
Your face and vest were already soaked when the bell rang loudly through the whole school. Fuck. The lunch break. You lost the opportunity, you couldn't make it to the greenhouse. Your plan was ruined. No one was going to take revenge today. Perhaps it really was a dish that should be served cold.
“L/N.” Speaking in coldness, guess who followed you. Your cheeks were still wet as you turned to Wednesday. In fact, you didn't want to, but she keeps coming up beside you and you can't stop yourself from turning around. “You ruined my message.”
Oh, fuck you. And you ruined my plan, so we’re even. What about it?
You stomped over the door and tried to close it. 
“This is the female restroom.” She noted, her fist closed around the knob as your hand pushed the knob on the other side. You tried to slam the door one more time, but she held it open. “It is you who should leave.” So you did. You wriggled out of the doorway, without even touching Wednesday's uniform, and stepped back into the hallway. 
The hallway now full of students heading to the canteen, talking and laughing and walking together in these huge packs of purple people. Someone stepped on your foot as you tried to control your breathing. It didn’t even hurt, but you walked back in reflex and your back hitted someone. It hitted Wednesday. 
"Follow me." She said after unseaming the small crease you made in her skirt. 
She paced determinedly down the hall and you followed, soon reaching the quad full of students. Curiously, she stopped and stood at a distance from the tables and the water fountain. Silence filled the space between you and you found yourself obliged to analyze her face after explanations. Her eyes wandered precisely through the quad, following a moving-target as a twist took over her lips. A smirk?
A loud scream made you look away: and then you saw. Oh, what a beautiful image you saw! The shrill-voiced girl was screaming for her life in the middle of the courtyard. A dozen spiders emerged from her plate and were now crawling up her chest and face. None of her slaps and screams stopped the arachnids from stepping over her skin. Now, all eyes were on her and everyone within thirty feet could hear her screams for help. 
Your plan might have been ruined, but Wednesday’s plan was way more satisfying.
You laughed delightedly as the girl squirmed on the floor, a loud, husky laugh coming from your lips that made Wednesday's little smile grow. She watched you attentively as your eyes gleamed because of the scene in front of you.
You were having the time of your life before a voice emerged from behind.
“Y/N.” 
It was Hank. Fuck.
X
“You’re walking on thin ice with the principal, Wednesday.” Hank said from behind his desk, his hands sunk into the wood. “You've already been suspended once, and I’m not sure if you will get away with this little spider show of yours.” Hank stared down at her, who was sitting beside his brother with her typically straight posture. Her hands were on her lap and her knees were knit together, her chin up in defiance. And you were mirroring her posture without even noticing. Hank tried to not gasp at you as he went on. “What was that for, after all?”
“They’ve ruined our correspondence.” She told him coldly. “Now I’m late.”
It was a weird deal they had. Like, Wednesday would only go to Jericho with Hank or then driving his moto. They also shared these secret, encrypted notes in the meantime. Was it a mystery solving competition? And she was now late with the riddles? It sounded like something Hank would do to keep a friend out of trouble. He used to do it with you. 
"Bullshit. You avenged Y/N, didn’t you?” Wednesday shifted slightly on her seat because of Hank’s words. “We’ve talked about this, corbeau, you can’t keep righting wrongs around here.”
Corbeau? Was she a raven? A psychic? Is that why Hank always grits his teeth around her? His curse gets worse around psychics. 
“Then you should perform your function properly and take care of these miserable beings.” You looked at her with widened eyes. “They’re bothering your brother and you did nothing.” Why was she bothered about it? She doesn't even know you. 
“You exhaust me, Wednesday.” Hank sighed, with his slumped shoulders and slow hand gestures accepting the defeat. So…they were friends? Hank has never lost an argument so quickly. 
“Did you know about it, Y/N?” After almost an hour scolding the Addams, he finally turned to you. “Did you plan out this thing together?” 
You shook your head and Hank frowned. Yes, you answered, and you could feel Wednesday's eyes on you. 
You were lying, of course — you had no idea about what she intended to do nor why she did it — but you adored it and you wouldn’t let her be penalized alone.
“So it's decided!” Hank did not seem happy. “You two will assist the school clubs for the next two weeks.” It didn’t sound bad. “And apologize.” Now it sounded horrible.
Wednesday fought back again and their discussion restarted. You didn’t really pay attention to what they were saying — you knew your brother wouldn’t go back. So your fingers went down your jacket as well as your eyes, and you began to twist the buttons of your clothes as the discussion dragged on for another half hour. 
A thud then came from the door behind you and you noticed Hank was gone. In an impulsive movement, you grabbed a paper and a pencil from your brother’s desk as Wednesday headed to the door. 
She was already leaving when you held out the paper for her. Please, turn around, turn around and look at—
“I—” Your voice got stuck in your throat as your mind ran widely in thoughts. What are you supposed to say? Could you say anything to her? What if you got it all wrong and she still wanted to kill you? Did she want to kill you in the first place?
Thankfully, your stutter was enough to make her turn her face toward you and see the paper in your hand. This time, you delivered the message without being crushed or wet.
Your note only said:
'Thank you.'
Then you ran away.
Taglist: @i984 @toournextadventure @cursedchar @aroaceanxietylemon @tundra1029 @efectoangel @sweetaimu @colezb @tnnadia @elduster @rainbowsixreader
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redhoodscorvid · 4 months
Text
We Decide Jason's Under The Red Hood Characterization AU
He could still taste his failure to kill the Joker. It lingered long after Talia's perfume faded, metallic like gasoline and blood at the back of his mouth. Or maybe that was just the scent of the docks in Gotham. Even odds, really.
Jason threw his extremely normal duffel bag full of dirty clothes and toiletries over his shoulder and breathed in the sour-metallic odor of Gotham's harbor. He chuckled, almost embarrassed for his past self. Two years ago, he had stumbled out of a Lazarus Pit and immediately tried to kill Batman. He had spent ages killing time—and worthy scumbags—until he finally went after his murderer, the man who took him away from Bruce.
Of course Jason hadn't been able to kill the fucker. He'd realized at the very moment he was holding the lighter that he needed the three of them together. That the problem wouldn't be solved until Bruce chose to cut the Gordion knot tying all of their fates to each other.
A light flashed twice from the dark water, and Jason climbed down the ladder hanging off starboard.
"Home sweet freaking home, huh?" said the crewman who was climbing down after him. The man, Larry Stemworth, ran a small trade in illicit goods and helped his overworked crewmates get amphetamines they probably shouldn't be taking, but that was standard fare out here. "I'm almost happy we're shipping out too quick to get shore leave."
"You getting enough time off ship for a smoke, even?" Jason asked. "Or has ownership written off the whole damn city as a health and safety issue?"
Stemworth laughed. "Don't worry about me, kid. But look in on my niece if you get a chance, ok? And don't get stabbed."
They waited, and a tiny speck of a boat pulled up alongside the monstrous cargo ship. Jason jumped down easily, and helped the crew toss a backpack up to Stemworth. Money changed hands, and Jason was in Gotham.
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